Les Trésors de Mes Jours d'Automne
by Sasha Snape
Summary: AU. Fantine gave birth to twin girls, and after her death, Valjean has promised to raise both Cosette and Eponine. Over the years, he will learn to love and his treasured daughters will learn to be loved-first by their father, and later by two handsome revolutionaries. Eventual Enjonine and Mariette.
1. Chapter 1

**After 14 years of being utterly obsessed with Les Mis (saw Colm Wilkinson perform Valjean in Toronto when I was 10 and I've been an addict ever since), I finally had to let my love spill over and write a fic. This story is going to be mostly family oriented between Valjean, Cosette, and Eponine. Family fic is my favorite genre to write, but don't worry; romance with our favorite Les Amis will come into play as the girls grow up. Since this is a parent/child fic, there may be spanking at some point, but it won't be very prominent and I will warn you before it's coming, so don't freak out on me. The canon parts are kind of a movie/musical/book mash up, although I do have the recent movie cast in mind for the characters (the adorableness of little Eponine is what inspired me to make her Cosette's twin in the first place). **

**Couple of notes about me as a writer: I only write for fun, so criticisms aren't really necessary, and flaming is not accepted. If you do leave me a review, I will always respond, so please feel free to leave me any questions about something that's not making sense or requests about things you might like thrown in. I won't beg for reviews, but I am encouraged to write faster when I know that people are awaiting updates****. And speaking of updates, I am a law student, so my free time is limited, but I do make a solemn promise that I will never abandon a story without finishing it, even if my updates come slowly. With all that being said, I really hope you enjoy the story!**

_December 24, 1823_

On Christmas Eve, a night when all little children should have been placing their shoes by the fireplace for Père Noël and dreaming of sweets and toys, a lone little figure crept through the woods on the outskirts of Montfermeil. She wore only a scrap of cloth that could hardly be referred to as a dress, with no shawl or shoes to protect her from the blistering wind and the frozen ground. As she dragged a heavy wooden bucket that was more than half her size, she lowered her head so the cold air would not freeze the tears that streaked her little cheeks.

"Cosette!" a voice called out in the dark. The little girl dropped her bucket in surprise and turned toward the sound of the familiar voice, which came from another small girl dressed nearly identically to Cosette. The only difference between the two was the knots of hair that sat under their ragged caps; Cosette's would have been blonde, had it not been so dirty, while the other child's was of a much darker hue.

"Eponine!" Cosette cried, shocked at the sudden appearance of her twin sister. "I thought Madame told you to stay and scour the hearth!"

"She did," Eponine panted, taking her sister's hands in her own as she finally caught up with her. "I waited until she was busy going through the sack of one of the customers and I snuck out. I knew you were frightened to be out here alone."

"Eponine, she'll beat you if she realizes!" Cosette replied, her large blue eyes reflecting her horror at the thought.

"She'd find a reason anyway," Eponine said, tossing her head proudly to encourage her sister, though deep inside she feared Madame Thenardier's wrath. "Come on, let's hurry. It's cold out here and maybe we can get back before she misses me."

With each of the girls holding onto the bucket, the trek to the well went quickly, and soon the children were making their way back to the inn. They hummed a little tune together that they had made up to comfort each other when they were scared, a tune about castles and clouds and a beautiful woman they could just barely remember.

The crack of a stick rang out like a shot through the dark forest, and both of the girls dropped the bucket as they whirled around to discover the source of the noise. A tall figure was walking toward them, and Cosette let out a strangled cry of fright, while Eponine put her hand on her sister's arm and prepared to run.

"Hush now," the figure said softly. "Do not be afraid of me."

A streak of moonlight shone through the leafless trees, revealing the figure to be a man. He was not like any man the girls had ever seen before, not like the men that frequented the Sergeant at Waterloo. No, this man had a clean-shaved face, was well-dressed, and had kind eyes.

"Tell me, mes enfants, what are your names?" the man asked.

Much to Eponine's surprise, her shy sister took a hesitant step toward the man. "I'm called Cosette," she said, her voice steady and sweet.

The man smiled and lowered himself to one knee, tipping his hat as he did so. "Mademoiselle," he said politely. "And you, petit, is your name Eponine?" he asked the child who had not spoken.

Eponine's eyes grew wide, but she found herself nodding slowly. "Oui, Monsieur."

Valjean studied the two little faces in front of him. It was clear that the money Fantine had given her very life for had not been put to the care of her children. The tiny girls were both so haggard and malnourished that it was hard to see exactly what they looked like. Despite their waiflike appearance, however, Valjean could see that both girls bore a resemblance to their mother. Cosette had Fantine's creamy pale skin and high cheekbones, while Eponine shared her mother's dark brown hair and eyes. Unfortunately, both children also displayed the look of utter despair that their mother had shown in her final days. Valjean felt, not for the first time that evening, a twinge of guilt at the thought of the recently deceased woman, but he quickly dismissed those feelings. He had sworn to Fantine to care for her daughters, and now his attention must be focused solely on them.

"Monsieur?" Eponine said, interrupting him from his musings. "Who are you?"

The smile on Valjean's lips faded as he recalled that he had to be the bearer of bad news. "Cosette, Eponine. I was sent here by your mother. I am sorry to tell you that she has gone to be with God."

The girls looked at each other, not sure how to respond to this news. To their seven year old minds, their mother was nothing more than a memory, practically a figment of their imaginations.

"I know this must come as a shock," Valjean continued, somewhat relieved that the girls seemed to take the news of their mother's passing so well. "But since your mother cannot come for you, I have come in her place. You are going to come live with me. Would you like that?"

"To work for you?" Cosette asked innocently. Valjean winced internally, hating that these two little children thought of themselves as nothing but slaves.

"No Cosette," he said gently, reaching out and taking each girl's cold hand in his own. "You will not come to live with me as my servants. You will come to live with me as my daughters."

"You mean…you're going to be our Papa?" Eponine whispered, her dark eyes daring to show a flicker of hope.

Valjean smiled and squeezed her hand. "Yes, Eponine. I'm going to be Father and Mother to you, and to Cosette. Where I go, you will be."

For the first time in what seemed like ages, Cosette and Eponine looked at each other and shared a genuine smile. The sight of it warmed Valjean's heart, and he rose to his feet.

"Now Mademoiselles," he said kindly. "This bucket is far too heavy for little girls to be carrying. Please, allow me to help you. You can show me where you live so I can arrange things with your…caretakers…and then we will be on our way."

An hour later, after one very heated argument and an exchange of money between the man and the Thenardiers, Eponine and Cosette found themselves being led to a carriage parked at the end of the town square.

"Here we are," Valjean said, nodding to the driver and opening the door with a flourish. "Up you go, petit," he said, wrapping his hands around Eponine's waist and lifting her into the cab. He repeated the process with Cosette, giving her a smile and a tweak of the nose before climbing in after her.

"Now then," Valjean said, kneeling on the floor of the cab as the horses began to pull. "Let's get you warmed up, shall we?" He removed a bundle from underneath the seat and untied it, revealing two large woolen shawls. He wrapped one around each of the girls' shoulders; a dark red one for Eponine and an emerald green one for Cosette.

Both girls sat in shock for a moment. Neither could remember ever touching something so luxurious, or feeling so warm. Valjean was happy to see the amazed expressions on their faces, but he felt guilty for bringing only the shawls. He had not expected the girls to be so poorly looked after, and he wished he had thought to at least purchase some shoes.

Cosette finally looked at him and spoke, snapping him out of his reverie. "You really are going to be our Papa, aren't you?" she breathed, her eyes filled with wonderment.

"Yes, Cosette," Valjean said, chuckling a bit as he stroked her face. "I am going to be your Papa, forever and always. You will never be alone again."

"Oh, thank you, Papa!" Cosette cried, surprising the man by throwing her arms around his neck. He glanced up at Eponine, who made no move to join the embrace, but was hugging her new shawl close to her shoulders with a luminous smile on her little face. Valjean could see that she was going to have dimples once she put a little weight on. He patted her knee fondly as Cosette released him from her grip.

"You're welcome, mon enfant," Valjean said kindly. "Now, since we have taken care of warming up the outside of your bodies, let us work on filling the inside." He removed another parcel from under the seat and set it on his lap as he moved to sit between the two girls. The girls watched hungrily as he unwrapped a loaf of bread, a wedge of ripe cheese, a dried apple turnover, and a flagon of cider. He broke the turnover into two pieces, handing one to each girl. "Eat up," he said.

Eponine and Cosette needed no urging, and with very little decorum, they began to devour the turnover. Valjean chuckled to himself; it was clear he was going to have to work on their manners, but that could be taken care of another time. He set to work dividing the bread and cheese, and the girls obligingly ate everything he handed them.

Once they had drunk the last bit of cider, Eponine yawned, and Cosette rubbed her eyes sleepily. "I think it is time for you both to have a bit of a rest," Valjean said softly. "But first, I have a surprise for you."

Eponine and Cosette looked at him quizzically. They had already been given beautiful shawls, and their bellies were full for the first time in their short memories. What more could their new Papa possibly give to them?

Valjean leaned over and removed one final parcel from underneath the seat. This one was larger, and lumpier than the first two had been. "Unfortunately, we will not make it to Paris in time for you to place your shoes by the fire for Père Noël. But I hope that these will make you as happy as a visit from him." With that, he opened the package, revealing two exquisite dolls.

"This one is for you, Cosette," Valjean said, handing her a doll dressed in a pink gown with long brown ringlets. "And Eponine, this one is for you."

Eponine reached out with trembling hands and accepted the large doll. She was clad in blue silk, with real blonde hair cascading from under her satin bonnet. "Oh Papa," she whispered, stroking the doll's smooth porcelain cheek, "She's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen!"

"You like her, then?" Valjean asked kindly. Eponine nodded, and finally leaned over to wrap her arms around his waist. "Thank you, Papa."

"Yes, thank you, Papa," Cosette echoed, leaning against his side. "Thank you for Catharine."

"Ah, is that her name?" Valjean asked interestedly. "And what shall you call your doll, Eponine?

"Marguerite," Eponine said decidedly.

"A splendid name," Valjean said with approval. "Now, I think Catharine and Marguerite are in need of a rest. Why don't we get them wrapped up in these fur blankets so they can go to sleep?"

Eponine and Cosette needed no encouragement to be tucked under the warm furs. Valjean soon found himself with a small head on each knee, both of which he lovingly stroked as the carriage plunged onward into the night.

_Les Trésors de Mes Jours d'Automne-Treasures of My Autumn Days_

_Père Noël-Father Christmas_

_Mon enfants-my children_

_Petit-little one_

**My apologies if any of the phrases were incorrect; blame google translate.** **Coming up next: the chase through Paris, of course! Plus the arrival at the convent, at which point you can expect large amounts of fluff, which shouldn't surprise anyone who's ever read my work before. I'd love to hear your thoughts (pleasant ones), and thank you for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow guys! I'm so excited about all the positive feedback I've gotten for this story. Thank you to everyone who reviewed or added me as a favorite or alert. It is a nice feeling knowing you're not the only one who likes your writing **** Here's the next chapter a little earlier than I expected, and then chapter 3 is almost done! After that though, don't expect the chapters to come as frequently. This upcoming week of school is going to be a busy (and miserable) one. I do have most of the chapters mapped out, though, so hopefully I won't make you wait too long. Just a warning, there are small mentions of child abuse in this chapter. On that happy note, enjoy!**

As the carriage approached the North Gate of Paris, Valjean glanced out the window. To his horror, there were five policemen patrolling outside the gate, one of whom Valjean could recognize even from 200 yards away. There was no mistaking the rigid countenance of Javert.

"Cosette," he whispered fiercely, shaking the blonde girl's thin shoulder. "Eponine. Wake up, now."

"Where are we?" Cosette asked sleepily, raising her head from his lap.

"We are outside of Paris," Valjean said distractedly, helping Eponine stand up as she rubbed her eyes. "But we are going to have to find another way in. Quickly, give me your dolls."

The girls obeyed, becoming more alert as they realized that their new Papa was concerned. Valjean shoved each of the dolls into his coat and made to open the door.

"Not a word from either of you," Valjean said, more sternly than he would have liked, but he could not risk Javert hearing them. He lifted Eponine in one arm, Cosette in the other, and hurried away from the carriage. He had seen a large hole in the wall on their way in; they would have to try and make their escape through there.

Valjean reached the gap in the wall and stood Eponine on her feet inside of it. As he was setting Cosette down, he heard the voice that had haunted his nightmares for years.

"Valjean!"

Valjean felt his heart stop beating as he realized he had been spotted by Javert, though it took no more than a second for it to start pounding again rapidly. He pushed himself up through the gap in the wall and slid out on the other side.

"Quickly, les filles!" he ordered, holding out his arms to take the girls once more. "We must hurry!"

Eponine and Cosette had no idea why Papa was so scared of the man with the deep voice, but they knew well enough not to argue. Both children wrapped their arms tightly around Valjean's neck, and together, the trio sprinted through the streets of Paris.

Valjean had been to Paris just a few days earlier, to hide his considerable stash of money. However, he had not had time to linger in the city, and he was unfamiliar with where he was going. Unfortunately, it seemed that Javert was quite familiar with the twists and turns of the Parisian roads. No matter how fast Valjean ran, no matter which direction he took, he could hear the iron hoof beats of Javert's steed coming closer and closer; the harsh voice becoming louder and louder.

Finally, just when Valjean thought his lungs were going to burst from exhaustion, he ran past a lamp with a large length of rope hanging from it.

"_The rooftops,"_ he thought to himself. If he could just find a place to climb up, perhaps they could get away.

Valjean grabbed the rope and continued down the dark alleyway, only to reach a dead end. There was a well-defined corner in the wall that he could most likely scale, but there was no time to lose. He immediately set the girls on their feet and began to untangle the rope.

"Mes enfants, listen to me," he said earnestly, beginning to wrap the rope around the girls' thin waists. "We are going to have to climb over this wall. I am going to tie this rope around you and I will pull you up once I reach the top. Hold on tightly to each other and do not make a sound. I promise I will not let you fall." With that, he gave each of them a quick kiss on the forehead and began to scale the bricks.

Cosette and Eponine did not need to be told to hold onto each other. As soon as Valjean began to climb, the twins shared a brief look of terror before hugging each other fiercely. No words needed to be spoken between the two. They both knew something was wrong, but they hoped their Papa would keep his promise and keep them safe.

Valjean reached the top of the wall with a speed that belied his years. He braced himself against some molding and began to pull the on the rope, praying fervently that the girls would not make a sound.

Cosette gave a short gasp of fright as her feet left the ground, but Eponine placed a small hand on the back of her head, pressing it to her shoulder. "It's alright, Cosette," she breathed into her sister's ear. She knew she wasn't supposed to talk, but she and Cosette had spent many an evening whispering comforting words to each other that they could not risk the Thenardiers overhearing. "Papa's got us."

Valjean did have them, and within a minute, he was pulling them up into his arms. He wanted to comfort them; he could see the fear in their eyes, but no sooner had he grasped them in his embrace then Javert's voice rang out through the cold air.

"24601!"

Knowing he had no time to descend to the other side of the wall without being spotted, Valjean quickly lay flat on his back. He pulled the girls down and in close to his side; fortunately, they were so thin that they easily fit on the wall. He tilted his head just enough so he could look his children in the eyes. Though he was more terrified than he had been in years, he managed to give them a small smile.

Thank heaven his smile was not unwarranted. After several minutes of shouting and frustrated banging on the part of Javert, the Inspector and his men galloped out of the alleyway, where they would spend the night searching in vain for the man they knew as 24601.

Valjean closed his eyes and sent up a quick prayer to God before sitting up on the ledge. "Are you alright, mes filles?" he asked gently, picking up the girls in his arms and cradling them.

"I'm scared, Papa," Cosette whimpered. Eponine said nothing, but when she looked up at him he could see that her beautiful brown eyes were shiny with tears.

"I know, ma petite Cosette," Valjean said, pressing a kiss to the crown of her blonde head and stroking Eponine's cheek with his thumb. "But the bad men are gone now. Still, we must continue to be quiet until we can find shelter. I'm going to lower you onto the other side of this wall, and then I will climb down. Hold onto each other once more, mes petits."

A few moments later, Valjean dropped to the ground from a shed roof. He knelt and untied the rope from the girls' waists before lifting them up into his arms once more. Giving the children a reassuring smile, he cautiously walked into the darkness. As the trio rounded a corner, they found themselves in the presence of an old gardener, who was at work in what appeared to be the cemetery of a convent. Valjean's eyes widened and he ducked behind a large tombstone, but it was too late.

"Who's there?" a raspy voice called out.

Valjean took a deep breath and stepped out from his hiding place, tightening his grip on the children as he walked forward. "Please," he begged. "Do not shout. No one must know we're here."

"Monsieur le maire?" the elderly man said with surprise. "Is it you?"

"Who are you?" Valjean asked, squinting in the darkness.

"Fauchelevant," the man said, setting his shovel on the ground. "I fell under my cart in Montreuil-sur-Mer several months ago. You saved my life."

"Fauchelevant," Valjean breathed, setting the girls down and hurrying over to the man. "I am afraid that it is I who is now in need of saving. These children and I need a place for sanctuary. We need to disappear."

"Of course," Fauchelevant replied, barely sparing a glance to the girls. He did not remember Monsieur Madeleine having children, but he was not about to question this man to whom he owed his very life. "Let me think…I will tell the sisters you are my brother, Ultime. He passed away some years ago, so it will be easy for you to assume his identity. If you are willing, Monsieur le maire, I will ask the sisters if you may join me as caretaker of the grounds. I am getting old, and I haven't been strong since my accident. I am sure they would not begrudge me the additional help."

"I am more than willing, Fauchelevant," Valjean said emphatically. "I will do whatever the sisters ask in exchange for shelter."

"There are two unoccupied rooms next to my quarters. We shall ask the sisters if you and these children may stay there. Come, they are just finishing the evening prayers."

"Thank you, my friend," Valjean said, gratefully grasping the elderly man's hand in his own. "Eponine, Cosette," he called, turning to gesture to the two girls. "Come, mes filles. It is safe now."

Fauchelevant had been right to assume the sisters would be generous. Within the hour, the previously uninhabited rooms had been provided with bedding, a washtub, and a bright fire. One of the nuns had managed to find two small woolen nightdresses, and another brought some food and enough water to draw a bath.

Valjean tried to coax the girls into eating some bread, but both were still so frightened from their midnight chase through the streets of Paris that neither had much of an appetite. He decided not to force the issue, but he was going to insist on them taking a bath. Not only were they filthy, but it would be the quickest way to warm their frozen skin after the trek through the winter night.

Valjean dragged the washbasin over by the fire so the water could warm, then he called the girls over to him.

"Let's get you out of these rags and into the tub," Valjean said, turning Eponine around so he could unbutton her dress. As the worn cloth fell away from her shoulders, Valjean felt his blood run cold. Not only was the child's spine protruding prominently from her back, but her skin was marred with fading welts. He touched his hand so gently to her back that Eponine barely felt it, but Valjean could feel the heat of the marks radiating onto his palm. There was no doubt from the shape that these scars had been made by a leather strap of some sort. Valjean clenched his free hand into an angry fist and closed his eyes briefly. His own back bore many a scar from the unforgiving whips of Toulon, but Eponine was nothing more than a baby. He was starting to remember why he had been so hateful after his days as a prisoner…

"Papa?" Eponine asked, turning around to face him. "Are you alright?"

Valjean opened his eyes and looked at the child in front of him. How on earth could she be so trusting after all she had suffered?

"Oui, ma douce," he said tenderly, taking her hand and giving it a gentle kiss. "Go on, into the tub," he said, helping her completely remove her gown.

He didn't know why he dared to hope that Cosette had not suffered the same treatment, but he only had to unfasten two of the buttons on her dress before he saw a set of scars that matched Eponine's. As he began to bathe the girls, he realized that they were not as dirty as he thought. What he had mistaken for a smudge of soot on Cosette's cheekbone was the fading remnants of a black eye, and Eponine's skinny arms had at least five bruises between them. He drew a shaky breath as he added more hot water to the tub. If only he had known of Fantine's situation sooner…maybe he could have saved her and her daughters from hell on earth. If only…

While Valjean was feeling guilty, however, Cosette and Eponine were feeling, for the first time in their young lives, content. The cheery glow of the fire made them quickly forget the frightening chase through Paris, and the warm water was a luxury neither of them had ever experienced before. Papa's hands were loving and gentle as he ran the flannel cloth over their bodies and scrubbed their hair. All too soon for their liking, both girls were being lifted from the tub and dried with thick pieces of flannel. Valjean led them into the second, smaller room, and helped them into the new nightgowns. The nuns had brought a crudely carved wooden comb, which Valjean used to untangle the children's' freshly washed locks before lifting them into the bed. He tucked the warm quilt tightly around Eponine and Cosette, and Marguerite and Catharine, who had miraculously survived the night unscathed.

"Bonne nuit, mes anges," he said softly, kissing first Cosette's forehead, than Eponine's.

"Bonne nuit, Papa," Cosette said, smiling as she hugged Catharine to her chest.

"Papa?"

"Yes, Eponine?"

"Joyeux Noël," the little girl said with a smile.

Valjean returned her smile. "Joyeux Noël, Eponine," he said out loud. _"Thank you, Father," _he said to himself. _"On this night when you give the world the gift of your son, you give me the gift of my daughters."_

_Les filles-girls_

_Enfants-children_

_ma petite Cosette-my little Cosette_

_Mes petits-my little ones_

_ma douce-my sweet_

_Bonne nuit, mes anges-good night, my angels_

_Joyeux Noël-Merry Christmas_

**Coming up next: the family settles into life at the convent, but is it going to be an easy adjustment for all? If it was, this would be a really boring story ;) Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Well, this chapter is dedicated to all of my readers who are devastated (as I am) that neither Hugh Jackman nor the cast of Les Mis won at the SAG Awards last night. Okay, devastated is a bit of an exaggeration, but I was pretty bummed out for an hour or so. WARNING: this chapter will include mentions of spanking as discipline, so if that bugs you, don't read. But it's really just mentions, so it shouldn't bother anyone. Thank you so much to everyone who has left me kind reviews so far, and thank you especially to vballr217 for putting up with my constant need to discuss the direction of this story. It's really encouraging me to write faster and better knowing how many of you are excited about the story. Enjoy this next chapter!**

_January 30, 1824_

Christmas Day came and went, but the joy and love Valjean had first felt that night continued to blossom in the weeks that followed. The day after Christmas, Valjean left the girls at the convent and returned several hours later, laden down with dresses, shoes, hair ribbons, and warm garments for winter. He had also purchased a few beautiful illustrated children's books. Eponine and Cosette did not yet know how to read, but the nuns had given permission for them to attend the convent school after the start of the New Year, and Valjean wanted to be sure they felt comfortable. He was pleased that the nuns had agreed to his request for the girls to continue living with him, as opposed to staying with the other pupils in the dormitories. Apart from the few hours he had gone shopping, he had not let the children out of his sight, and it took a lot of arguing with himself before he realized that he at least had to let them go to school for a few hours each day.

Fortunately, Cosette and Eponine did not mind their new Papa's protective ways. The looks of despair that they had worn weeks ago in the woods disappeared a little more each day. After eating a simple breakfast together, Valjean would bundle the girls up and send them to school before beginning his day of work with Fauchelevant. The children would return hours later, and it warmed Valjean's soul every time he turned from whatever bush he was pruning and saw them running toward him, full of tales about their day. After supper, he would take them on his knee and they would all read together. Both children were very bright, despite years of neglect, and they were already reading simple words within a month. Sometimes, if they did not wish to read, the girls would sit on stools next to his chair and knit or sew, while Valjean whittled pieces of wood into clever playthings for them. But every night ended the same, with the girls kneeling by the bed to pray as their Papa had shown them, and him tucking them tightly under the quilts with a gentle kiss, which they always returned happily.

And thus the little family's life began in the safe walls of the convent. Fauchelevant had been concerned about Monsieur le maire feeling demeaned by the work of a humble caretaker, but he had no reason to worry. After nineteen years of hard labor in the galleys of Toulon, Valjean considered himself a lucky man to be performing the duties of a gardener each day. The sun had been unseasonably warm over the past few days, and Valjean found himself having to unbutton his coat as he worked on a particularly stubborn bush. His concentration was so great that he almost dropped his shears when a call rang through the courtyard.

"Monsieur Fauchelevant!"

Valjean looked over his shoulder and was surprised to see Sister Beatrice, the nun in charge of the boarding school, walking toward him. It was not the nun who surprised him, however. It was the little girl being led alongside her. Lessons were not due to end for another hour yet, so why was Eponine returning home so soon?

"Sister Beatrice," Valjean said concernedly, dropping his shears on the ground. "Is something the matter? Eponine, are you well?"

"Monsieur Fauchelevant, I am sorry to distract you from your work, but I am afraid there was an incident in the schoolroom," Sister Beatrice replied. "Your daughter has struck another student."

Valjean raised his eyebrows in shock, and looked down at Eponine…tiny, sweet Eponine, who had begged him not to kill a mouse he found in the cupboard just two nights ago. Surely, she could not have engaged in any sort of violence.

"Eponine, is this true?" he asked. When the little girl lowered her head in silent confirmation, Valjean felt his heart sink slightly. "Sister, there must have been some sort of provocation. Eponine is not a violent child."

"No, she certainly has not conducted herself in this manner before," Sister Beatrice agreed. "She is refusing to say what occurred, so I do not know if she was provoked or not. However, I left Sister Elisabeth in charge of the classroom, and she is questioning the other pupils to find out what they know."

"As per your request, Monsieur Fauchelevant, I have brought Eponine to you to handle," Sister Beatrice continued. Valjean sighed to himself; he had requested of the Sisters before enrolling the children in the school that they be brought to him if there were any problems. He had, however, assumed the only problems would be feelings of loneliness or some sort of illness. He certainly hadn't dreamed that one of the girls would be brought to him for any sort of misbehavior, let alone fighting.

"Yes, thank you, Sister," Valjean replied distractedly, running his hand through his greying hair.

"Monsieur, I understand that we are in a unique situation here. Never before has a pupil attended our school during the day and lived with a parent during the evening," Sister Beatrice said. "We are more than willing to respect your authority with your children, but I hope you realize that behavior such as this cannot go unpunished."

Something unidentifiable flickered in Valjean's eyes as he brought his focus back to the nun. "Please do not concern yourself, Sister," he said quietly. "I will deal with Eponine."

Sister Beatrice heard the change in his tone, and respectfully nodded her head. "I will leave you two alone then," she said, turning to look at Eponine. "Eponine, I trust we will not have this problem again?"

"No, Sister Beatrice," Eponine finally spoke, her voice small and hardly audible.

"Very good," Sister Beatrice said, nodding to Valjean once more before walking away.

Valjean stared after her for a brief moment before looking down at his daughter. Eponine stood before him with her hands tucked behind her back and her head lowered towards the ground.

"Eponine, look at me," Valjean said. He did not raise his voice, but his tone made it clear that he expected to be obeyed. Eponine reluctantly raised her head, biting her lower lip to keep herself from crying. Father and daughter looked at each other in unbroken silence, until a gust of wind caused Eponine to shiver involuntarily.

Her sudden chill did not go unnoticed by Valjean, and he chastised himself for not taking her straight into their quarters. "Come," he said simply, holding out his hand for her to take. Eponine accepted his grasp, and they walked silently through the cemetery to their living quarters. Once inside, Valjean silently helped Eponine with her shawl before removing his own jacket. Hanging the garments on their respective hooks, he stared at the wall for several moments, trying to gather his thoughts.

"Eponine, go to your room, please," Valjean said finally, reaching out to give her hand a brief squeeze. "I will be in shortly."

Eponine dropped her father's hand and ran to her room. After shutting the door and climbing on her bed, she curled up on her side and drew her knees into her chest before beginning to cry. Papa had told Sister Beatrice that he would "deal with her"…what did he mean? Would he send her away? Or what if he gave her a beating? Papa did not seem the sort of man that would beat her, not like Monsieur Thenardier. He had promised her and Cosette that he would keep them safe, and he had been nothing but kind and gentle since he first met them in the woods. But Eponine had not done anything naughty since Papa came to get her and Cosette. Papa was a very strong man; he could easily lift both her and Cosette at the same time, and Eponine knew that if he wanted to, he could punish her quite severely.

Valjean, of course, had no intention of punishing the child in any manner that could be described as severe, but as he sank into his chair in the front room, he felt as lost and confused as Eponine. In the weeks caring for the girls, it had never occurred to him that one day they would misbehave. Both of them had been so sweet and quiet since he had brought them to the convent. He realized he was a fool to think they would remain that way. After all, he wanted them to have as normal and happy a childhood as possible, and normal, happy children often got into trouble. Now the problem presented itself-how on Earth should he deal with it? He knew deep down that Sister Beatrice was right; such blatant misbehavior could not go unpunished, but what sort of punishment could he give?

The thought of locking Eponine in her room was unthinkable-it reminded him too much of the years he spent locked up in a prison cell, and it might end up being more of a punishment for Cosette to keep the girls apart. Valjean also could not consider sending her to bed without supper. He knew all too well how painful starvation was, and even if he didn't, Eponine and Cosette had barely begun to put weight on. Their little bones still protruded out of their skin from years of malnourishment, and Valjean certainly was not going to do anything to make their health worse. He supposed he could assign her some extra chores, but giving her physical labor to complete might bring back painful memories of her servitude to the Thenardiers. Besides, what chores would he give her? He and Fauchelevant barely had enough work in the gardens to keep themselves busy, and the girls already helped Valjean take care of their own small living quarters.

Valjean's thoughts reluctantly turned to his own childhood, and how his father had always dealt with misbehavior by taking his only son over his knee. He had to admit to himself that Jean Sr.'s method of discipline had worked well to curb his behavior, and his father had never been cruel when meting out punishment. Perhaps this was his best option. After all, Valjean knew he could trust himself not to be too hard on the little girl; in fact, it would probably be a struggle for him to be hard enough to even make an impression. But still…their relationship was so new, and the scars on Eponine's back had barely begun to fade. No, today was not the occasion for a spanking, Valjean decided. He knew that he might have to revisit that form of punishment in the future, but for this situation, a good talking-to was going to have to suffice. He just couldn't bear the thought of Eponine or Cosette being frightened of him. Resolved in his decision, Valjean rose to his feet and walked the short distance to the girls' bedroom.

Eponine started when the door to her bedroom creaked open. She spared only the briefest fearful glance towards Valjean before averting her eyes once more to her bedspread.

Valjean felt his heart swell with love for the small child, a feeling that still took him by surprise after nearly two months. He wanted desperately to run right out the door and buy her a new plaything or some pretty dress, if only to see the woeful look disappear from her face_. But there will be time for that later_, he chided himself as he walked over to the bed.

"Eponine," he said gently, seating himself on the edge of the bed. "Stand up, ma enfant. We need to have a talk."

Eponine reluctantly crawled from the bed and stood before Valjean. She tried to keep her eyes lowered to the ground, but once she was standing, Valjean lifted her chin between his finger and thumb. He noted with sadness that she seemed frightened, of him no doubt. He wiped a stray tear off her face with his thumb before cradling her cheek in the palm of his hand.

"Eponine, you have no need to fear me," he said softly, looking deep into her large brown eyes. "I am not going to punish you."

Eponine's forehead crinkled in confusion. "But…you told Sister Beatrice that…"

"That I would deal with the situation," Valjean interrupted. "And we are going to talk about what happened, but I don't think a punishment is necessary in this case."

"Then…you're not going to beat me?" Eponine whispered.

"Of course not!" Valjean exclaimed, a bit more harshly than he meant to. Eponine jumped in surprise at his raised voice, and Valjean took a deep breath to calm himself. "I'm sorry, petit, I did not mean to shout. I was just upset that you would think I could be so cruel."

"I don't think you're cruel, Papa," Eponine said timidly. "I just thought…I mean, I was naughty, and…"

"Eponine," Valjean said, taking her little hands in his own as her voice trailed off. "There is nothing you could do that would give me cause to beat you. Is that clear?"

Eponine slowly nodded, and Valjean gave her a comforting smile before returning to the matter at hand. "Now, Sister Beatrice said you slapped another child. What provoked this?"

"Louise hurt Cosette's feelings," Eponine replied, the quiver in her voice vanishing as she remembered her earlier anger. "She said something unkind, and Cosette began to cry. Louise was laughing at her, and Cosette was so sad. I had to do something, Papa!"

"I understand your desire to protect your sister," Valjean said, admitting to himself that had he been present and seen Cosette's tears, he might have slapped the person responsible himself. "I am not happy that you resorted to violence, but I am proud of you for standing up for Cosette. While I understand your behavior, I do not ever want to hear of you harming another again. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Papa," Eponine whispered.

"Good. Tomorrow, you are to apologize to the girl you struck, and we will consider that the end of the matter."

Eponine frowned at the idea of apologizing to that horrid creature, but she quickly changed her countenance when Valjean raised an eyebrow at her. She knew Papa could have given her a much worse punishment, and she was grateful. Still, she wasn't going to be happy about apologizing.

"Eponine, should anything of this nature happen again, I very well may give you a spanking," Valjean continued sternly. "I will never hurt you or your sister, but I want you to be good little girls, and I will punish you the next time you misbehave. Do you understand, petite fille?"

Eponine nodded hard, still trying to comprehend the forgiveness her new Papa had shown her. "Yes Papa, I understand. I will try hard to be good."

Valjean smiled and lifted her onto his knee. "I know you will, ma Cherie," he said tenderly, running his hand over her small brown head. Father and daughter shared a loving look that was soon broken apart by the sound of a slamming door.

"'Ponine?" a little voice called frantically. Cosette skidded to a halt in the doorway when she saw that her sister was not alone.

"It's alright, Cosette," Valjean said, smiling as he extended a hand to her. "Eponine has been forgiven. Come, sit with us."

After sharing a glance with her twin to confirm that Eponine was indeed alright, Cosette walked toward the pair and found herself hoisted onto Valjean's other knee.

"Mes anges doux," he said softly, placing a kiss apiece on the two foreheads in front of him. "I love you both very much."

"We love you too, Papa," Eponine replied, leaning her head against his broad shoulder.

Valjean smiled tenderly at her before turning his attention to the other cherub perched on his lap. "Are you alright, Cosette? Eponine told me another child had been cruel to you."

"Yes," Cosette answered, her cheeks flushing light pink as she remembered the girl's unkind words. "After Eponine left, another girl told Sister Elisabeth what Louise said. She made Louise sit in the corner and write out scripture. And she made her apologize to me."

"Good," said Eponine with a self-satisfied smile. "I'm glad she got in trouble."

"Eponine," Valjean scolded gently. "It is not kind to take pleasure in the misfortune of others."

"Yes, Papa," Eponine said grudgingly.

"However, it does sound as though her behavior was in need of correction," Valjean acquiesced. "Now Cosette, Eponine said this girl insulted you. What exactly did she say?"

"She called me stupid," Cosette said quietly, the corners of her mouth turning down. "Sister Elisabeth called on me to read aloud, and I had to keep stopping to sound out the words. When I sat back down, she leaned over and said I was stupid. I haven't been reading that long, Papa!" she protested.

"Sh, I know that, petit," Valjean said understandingly, smoothing her blonde curls away from her face. "I have been very proud at how much progress both of you have made with your studies. Just a month ago, neither of you could read or write at all, but now you know dozens of words. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

"Really?" Cosette asked hopefully. She had been feeling very unconfident when asked to recite lessons in front of the others students, and after Louise's hurtful words, she was beginning to wonder if she really was stupid.

"Absolutely not," Valjean replied, sealing the promise with a kiss. "Do not ever allow anyone to make you feel inferior, mes filles. You are perfect the way God made you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Papa," the two little voices chirped.

"Good," he said, helping them both down off of his knee. "Now, I have to go back outside and finish a bit of work. The two of you may begin to prepare supper, and tonight, you can read to me from Mother Goose. Before long, you will be the best readers in your class. Of that I have no doubt."

The girls had no idea if that belief was true or not, but as they each wrapped their thin arms around their Papa's waist, they didn't care.

**Whew, longest one yet! Coming up: a little bit more of the girls' past with the Thenardiers, but a lot of happy father/daughter times to make up for it. Snowmen will be involved. Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**After a close to unbearable week of school, here is Chapter 4! Thank you guys so much for all your reviews and PMs, you really have no idea how much they mean to me. As a thank you, I'm opening the floor for suggestions/requests on things you would like to see happen in this story. I've got the girls' childhood planned up through at least chapter 12 before I jump to the future, but I'm not above expanding that length if someone gives me an idea I can work with. Just an FYI, since more than half a dozen people have asked me about this, you don't need to waste a wish on having Eponine survive the Barricade; I have zero intention of killing her off, so you can all chillax. I hope you enjoy this next chapter-can't wait to hear what you think!**

_February 17, 1824_

Cosette and Eponine had been put to bed hours ago, but Valjean lay sleepless in the front room, unable to relax with the sound of the howling wind beating against the walls. The mild days that had blessed Paris throughout January became a thing of the past once the calendar turned to February, and a bitter cold had plagued the convent for the past two weeks. Each day Valjean found himself moving his chair closer and closer to the fire, and each night he tucked an extra blanket around his daughters to protect them from the chill. He was just considering moving his bed to the back bedroom to give himself some relief from the freezing temperatures when the wind blew so hard that it knocked the door latch free, causing the heavy wooden door to slam against the wall.

Valjean groaned in frustration and got out of bed. He looked out into the convent garden as he went to shut the door, and discovered, to his surprise, that it was snowing. There had not been a snowfall in Paris since they had arrived at the convent, despite the frigid atmosphere, but this one was looking to be quite the event. Already the trees and tombstones were blanketed with a fine white powder, and swirls of the stuff continued to fall thickly from the sky. It appeared that he and Fauchelevant would not be able to complete any work tomorrow, and Valjean smiled at the thought as he shut the door. While he enjoyed the peaceful garden work, he would much rather spend the day with his daughters. As he fastened the strong leather latch, the sound of the whistling wind was cut through by a much softer, sweeter sound.

"Papa?"

Valjean turned from the doorway and was greeted by the sight of a tiny girl, clad in her flannel nightgown and rubbing her eyes sleepily.

"Ma petite Cosette," he said softly, holding his arms out to her. "What are you doing out of bed? Did the sound of the door wake you?"

"Is that what the loud noise was?" Cosette asked, trotting over and allowing her father to pick her up. "It frightened me."

"Yes, Cosette," Valjean said, hoisting her up onto his hip. "The wind blew the latch free, but I've fixed it. There is nothing to be frightened of," he assured her. "Did your sister awaken as well?"

"No, Papa," Cosette said, snuggling her head into the crook of his neck. "Eponine can sleep through anything."

Valjean chuckled softly at his child's frank, yet true observation. While Eponine was ordinarily a very agreeable child, she had proven rather difficult to waken in the mornings. Indeed, Valjean had only found cause to chastise the girls one time in the past few weeks, and it had all started with Eponine refusing to get out of bed. He had gone to awaken the girls for school, and while Cosette had risen without complaint, Eponine had curled herself into a ball and squeezed her eyes shut, not unlike a stubborn puppy. After sternly telling her twice that if she did not get up, he would be forced to punish her, Cosette had helpfully brought over a handful of water from the washbasin and thrown it on her unsuspecting sister's face. Unfortunately, the water had already been sufficiently mixed with soap from Cosette's morning washing. Needless to say, the soap found its way into Eponine's eyes, which led to a great many tears on the part of the little brunette. Cosette felt badly for making her sister cry; she had only been trying to get Eponine up so Papa wouldn't punish her. Fortunately, Valjean could see that both children regretted their actions, and after wiping away tears and delivering a gentle scolding about obeying one's father and not assaulting one's sister, he sent both of them off to school with a kiss.

"Papa?" Cosette asked, calling Valjean back to the present. "Why is the wind blowing so hard?"

"Ah, that is a surprise for you, ma petite," Valjean said, carrying her over to the small window at the opposite end of the room. "Look out there. It's snowing."

Cosette's lips turned downward. "I don't like the snow, Papa," she said, wrapping her arms more tightly around his neck.

"You do not like the snow?" Valjean repeated, slightly surprised by the admission. "Why ever not?" He thought all children enjoyed the magical effect of snow falling from the sky and creating a perfect white expanse.

Cosette did not answer; she simply buried her face in her father's neck. Valjean immediately grew concerned; Cosette's previous statement now appeared to be more than a childish whimsy. He carried the child over to his chair by the fire and sat her on his knee.

"Why do you not like the snow, Cosette?" he asked again, reaching to tuck her blonde hair behind her ear. There was a haunted, distant look in his child's blue eyes that made him uneasy. "You can tell me, petit."

Cosette squirmed a little on his lap and looked down at her hands. "When we lived with the bad people in Montfermeil," she began. Both children had long stopped referring to the Thenardiers by name, something for which Valjean was grateful. He was hopeful that in time they would forget those foul creatures had ever existed. "Eponine and I were boiling the laundry, and we had to add more water, but the pot was too heavy. We dropped it, and water spilled out all over the floor. The bad woman was so angry that she threw us out the back door and told us we would have to remain outside until the floor became dry. It was snowing, and we begged her to let us in when it grew dark, but she made us stay outside all night. It was so cold, Papa," she finished with a whimper.

Valjean honestly did not know at this point why he allowed anything those wretched people had done to surprise him, but his heart still shook with rage at Cosette's woeful tale. He placed his hand on the side of her cheek and drew her head into his chest, rocking her gently as he stroked her hair.

"The snow can be cruel, ma enfant," he said softly. "As can people. But just as most people have some goodness in them, there is goodness to be found in snow as well. It does not have to be something that you fear."

Cosette looked up at him with wide eyes. "What kind of goodness, Papa?" she asked curiously.

A smile flickered across Valjean's face as a plan formed in his mind. "That is a question I would prefer to answer come morning, ma petite," he said conspiratorially. "Right now, I think it is time for all les petites filles to be asleep in their warm beds. But tomorrow, if you are willing, I will show you just how good snow can be."

Cosette looked at him doubtfully, and he rubbed her back reassuringly. "You do not have to come out in the snow with me if you do not want to, petit," he promised. "But if you do, you will not have to worry about becoming cold. I will make sure you are warmly dressed, and the instant you become uncomfortable, we can come back inside."

Cosette still had her doubts, but she trusted her Papa, and knew he would never do anything to harm her. "All right, Papa," she agreed, leaning her head back down against his chest. "I will come in the snow with you. And I will make Eponine come too."

"You let your sister make her own decisions, Cosette," he admonished, tapping her nose with his finger. He did not wish to have a repeat of the water throwing incident should Eponine decide the snow was not something she wished to experience. "And right now, I think it is a good decision if you go back to bed."

Sitting by the warmth of the fire had made Cosette feel drowsy once more, and she did not protest when Valjean stood and carried her back to her room. He set her down gently in the bed, careful not to disturb Eponine, and gave her a kiss as he tucked her in.

"Bonne nuit, ma ange," he whispered, bringing the blankets up to her chin. "Je t'aime."

"Je t'aime, Papa," Cosette whispered back, unable to stop herself from yawning as she snuggled under the covers. After smoothing back Eponine's hair from her face and adjusting the blankets so she was completely covered, Valjean crept out of the room, his mind working hard as he planned out the next day.

The weather cooperated perfectly with Valjean's master plan. By the time he awoke the next morning, the snow had stopped falling from the sky, and the only evidence of the blizzard remaining was the pristine white sheet covering the ground. Valjean smiled as he glanced out the window; there was nearly a metre of snow outside, untouched by any man, woman or child. No doubt the nuns were making the pupils stay indoors today, but Valjean had other ideas. He hurried back to the bedroom to wake his daughters.

Both children were hard to get up this morning; Cosette because she had awoken during the night, and Eponine because she was Eponine. But since they did not have to go to school, Valjean could afford to be patient with them. After nearly half an hour of rubbing their backs and speaking gently to them, the children finally crawled out of bed and went to the front room to have their breakfast. Over warm slices of bread spread with jam, Valjean explained to Eponine that they were going to go outside in the snow today. Eponine looked as hesitant as her sister had the night before, but after Valjean promised she could come in at any time she wanted and Cosette had begged her to join them, she agreed to give it a try.

After the dishes had been wiped down, Valjean set to work making sure the girls were dressed as warmly as possible. When it had become clear that February was going to be a cold month, he had gone out to purchase even more warm things for his daughters. He helped them put on their thickest woolen dresses and two pairs of stockings apiece, followed by soft mittens and scarves that he wrapped snuggly around their necks. He put on his own coat and gloves as the girls helped each other with their cloaks and sturdy leather boots. Once everyone was sufficiently protected from the elements, Valjean took each child by the hand and led them out into the mystical white wonderland.

"Look mes filles," he said softly, as the little trio took a few steps into the courtyard. "See how beautiful it is?"

Eponine and Cosette were still a little wary, but they had to admit, this was much more beautiful than the snow in Montfermeil. In such a small village, it never took long before the snow had been trampled into a dirty grey mess, a stark contrast to the sight that lay before them now. The sun was just beginning to peak through the clouds, giving the snow an almost diamond-like quality.

"So, mes filles," Valjean said jovially, interrupting their moment of rapture. "What shall we do first? Would you like to make snow angels?"

Eponine wrinkled her brow in confusion. "What is a snow angel, Papa?"

"What's this?" Valjean asked, feigning surprise. "Two petits anges do not know how to make snow angels?" Cosette and Eponine both shook their heads. "Well, I shall have to instruct you how. First, you must lie flat on your backs in the snow. Go on, now."

The children were a little reluctant as they lay down, but they soon realized that the chill from the snow could not penetrate the many layers of clothing they were wearing, and they began to relax.

"Now," Valjean continued. "Move your arms up and down like you are flying, and move your legs from side to side." The girls obeyed his odd instructions, giggling a little bit as their limbs slid easily through the snow.

"Well done," Valjean said, after they girls had swung their arms and legs multiple times. "Now look at what you have created," he added, reaching down to pick both children up carefully from the ground.

As he set them on their feet, Eponine and Cosette stared at their work in wonderment. "It really is an angel," Cosette breathed.

"Oh Papa, may we do it again?" Eponine begged, jumping up and down. Valjean smiled warmly at her, pleased that her fear of the snow seemed to be slipping away. "You may make as many angels as you like, petit," he said obligingly. "But first, don't you think these two little angels should have a Papa to watch over them?"

"Oh yes," Eponine exclaimed, her eyes widening in excitement over this new idea. "How do we make a Papa, Papa?" Cosette bounced beside her in apparent agreement, and Valjean's smile grew even wider.

So the little family spent the next hour rolling copious amounts of snow into three balls of varying sizes. Valjean, with his strong arms, was responsible for stacking them atop one another to form the body of the snowman, while Cosette and Eponine ran all around the courtyard, gathering stones and sticks to create a face and limbs for their creation. Once the little man was complete, Valjean unwrapped his own scarf from his neck and transferred it to the snowman, along with his hat. The two girls stepped back to admire their work, and were both so entranced that they did not notice Valjean creeping off to the side.

"Isn't he beautiful, Eponine?" Cosette sighed contentedly. But before her sister could respond, both girls were startled by something soft and wet hitting the backs of their heads. The two girls whirled around to find Valjean grinning mischievously at them as he formed another snowball.

Both of the girls gaped at him in such shock that for a moment Valjean feared he had done something wrong. But just as he was about to go apologize, Eponine gave a cross between a shriek and a giggle and barreled toward him. The little fairy of a child leapt on top of him, and Valjean allowed himself to fall back into the snow, laughing as he went. Cosette, not wanting to miss out on the fun, joined her sister on top of their father. The little girls did not know how to form a snowball, so their attempts to launch a counterattack were not very successful, and before long, the tables were turned as Valjean tickled them both, causing each to fall into the snow in a fit of giggles.

Giving both of them a hearty kiss, Valjean helped them up from the ground and showed them how to form a perfect snowball. The family stayed out of doors until well past dinner time, throwing snowballs, making snow angels, and laughing until they could scarcely breathe. All three were so content that they might have stayed out until nightfall, but Valjean was still a father, and once he noticed that the children's noses were as red as cherries, he ordered them both inside for a warm bath. After a good soaking in the tub and a hearty meal of stew and bread, Valjean drew both girls onto his knees in his chair by the fire.

"So, mes petites," he asked kindly. "Are you still frightened of the snow?"

"No Papa!" Eponine exclaimed, bouncing up and down on his knee. "I want to play in the snow every day!"

Valjean chuckled at her enthusiasm. "That might be difficult come the summer months, Eponine," he reminded her, running his hand over her silky hair. "But as long as there is snow on the ground, we can play in it every day if you wish."

"You were right, Papa," Cosette said, snuggling against his chest. "The snow is good. Like you."

In spite of himself, Valjean felt an unbidden tear prick at his eyes. He said nothing, but held both of his daughters closely to his chest, rocking them gently as the fire crackled before them.

**Yeesh, that was fluffier than cotton candy. But I loved writing it :D Coming up next: I'm actually not sure. I have a somewhat angsty chapter planned, and another fluffy chapter; just haven't decided which order they're going to be in. But like I said, if you have any requests, please don't hesitate to leave them in a review or a PM. I can't promise I'll make your wish come true, but I do promise to take all ideas into consideration. Thanks for reading!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey guys! So, I eventually decided that this chapter is going to be another happy, sugary, might give you cavities sort of chapter, but I'll throw in a VERY angsty moment at the end to make up for it, plus a little mournful vignette in the middle. And the next chapter is going to be quite dramatic as well, so you can look forward to that. I have a lot of work to do this week, but you never know; enough reviews and I may post again in the next couple of days. Just saying ;) Enjoy!**

_March 19, 1824_

"Papa! Papa!"

Valjean dropped his trowel and got to his knees as soon as he heard the two little voices calling across the courtyard. Eponine and Cosette came running from the convent, books in hand and braids flying behind them as they headed toward their father. As he did every day, Valjean held out his arms and caught them in his embrace as they reached him.

"Mes filles!" he said enthusiastically. "It is good to see you. How was your day?"

"Good, Papa," Eponine said, looking up at him with a smile. "Sister Beatrice says I am getting very good at sums!"

"And I read a whole passage aloud today without missing a word!" Cosette chimed in, eager not to be outdone by her sister.

"Well done, mes petites!" Valjean said sincerely, letting them out of his embrace and taking both of them by the hand. "This calls for a celebration. I will stop work early so you can tell me all about your accomplishments."

The twins were quite happy to boast about all they had been learning in school, and their tales lasted well into dinnertime. As Valjean was mopping up the gravy from his plate with a piece of bread and listening to Cosette prattle on about a new stitch she had been practicing in sewing class, Eponine interrupted her sister's story with a question.

"Papa?" she asked. "Why do I not have a birthday?"

Valjean raised his eyebrow in surprise. "Well…you do have a birthday, Eponine. Unfortunately, I am not sure when it is." _Yet another detail I did not get to ask Fantine_, he thought sadly to himself. He had gotten to know his daughters better than he had ever known anyone over the past few months, but there were so many things he would never know, and thus would never be able to share with his children. When they took their first steps. Said their first words. What their middle names were. The day they entered the world and it became a more beautiful place. He supposed he should be grateful that Fantine had at least thought to tell him that the twins were seven years old right before she died.

"What _is _a birthday, Papa?" Cosette demanded, interrupting Valjean from his musings.

Valjean chuckled. "Mes petites, why are you asking about birthdays if you do not even know what one is?"

"Victoire said that today was her birthday," Eponine informed him. "Her parents sent her flowers and a little cake."

"It had sugared violets on it," Cosette said wistfully.

"Ah, I see," Valjean said understandingly. "Well, mes filles, a birthday is the anniversary of the day you were born. The day God sent you to live here on Earth."

"How did God send us here, Papa?" Eponine asked innocently. "How were we born?"

Valjean choked on his wine at her seemingly innocuous question. He looked at the two small faces in front of him, waiting expectantly for his answer-Papa did, after all, know everything-and he quickly changed the subject.

"So mes anges, it would seem to me that you wish to have a birthday of your own," he said, nervously placing his glass back on the table and hoping that this would prove a distraction from their last question.

"Oh, can we, Papa?" Cosette asked excitedly. "May we have a cake with sugared violets?"

"You may have a whole field of sugared violets, ma petite Cosette," Valjean said, fondly pinching her cheek. "But first, we must decide what day to celebrate. This is a very important decision. What day would you like to choose?"

"Do we have to pick the same day, Papa?" Eponine asked.

"Oh yes, ma petite Eponine," he said solemnly. "You are twins, after all. You had the precious gift of entering the world at the exact same time, and you must always share that." _Well, not the exact same time, most likely, but hopefully they won't ask any more questions regarding that just yet,_ he thought.

"We can share," Eponine said agreeably. "When should we be born, Cosette?"

"I don't know," Cosette said with a frown, putting her elbow on the table and thoughtfully propping up her chin with her fist. "There are so many days."

"We should choose one soon," Eponine replied. "Soon it will be spring and all the flowers will be in bloom."

Unbidden, a memory stirred from the darkest depths of Valjean's mind. A memory of the first day of spring, more than thirty years ago, when another little girl had been born. His sister Jeanne had called her Afrodille, after the daffodils that bloomed in the meadow near their home. The tiny girl had been perfectly formed, and his sister was so pleased to have a daughter after giving birth to two sons. Though the family was poor, they had not yet descended to the level of poverty that had forced Valjean to become a thief, and Valjean remembered how happy they all were that day. He had not allowed himself to think of his sister and nieces and nephews in well over a decade; he had no idea what fate had befallen them and thinking of the years he lost only brought him pain. But God had given him a second chance with his new family. Maybe it was time he honored his old one.

"May I make a suggestion, mes chéries?" Valjean interjected quietly. "In two days' time it will be the first day of spring. It is a Saturday, so you will not have to attend school. Perhaps that would be a good day to celebrate?"

Cosette's eyes widened excitedly. "The first day of spring!" she said joyfully. "Oh Papa, that's a wonderful idea!"

"May we have flowers?" Eponine asked, a delighted grin spread across her face.

"Of course, petit," Valjean said indulgingly. "Although there is no flower that could compare to the two of you. You, Cosette, are sweeter than any buttercup or peony; and Eponine, you are more charming than any daisy or rose."

Both girls giggled at his praise before going back to chattering about all the things they wished to do for their birthday. Valjean listened silently, tucking away little pieces of what they said to plan a wonderful day for them.

_March 21, 1824_

Valjean had finally discovered the secret to getting Eponine out of bed in a timely manner: promising her a trip into town for gifts. Indeed, it felt like he had just closed his eyes after a long day's work when his rib cage was nearly shattered by a tiny form leaping atop him in bed.

"Papa, Papa!" Eponine cried. "Wake up! Today is my birthday!"

Valjean winced in pain, but he quickly hid his discomfort at the sight of Eponine's beaming face.

"Why, so it is, Eponine!" he said, sitting up and pulling her on his lap. "Happy Birthday, ma fille douce!"

"Thank you, Papa!" Eponine grinned, throwing her arms around his neck and giving him a big kiss on the cheek.

"'Ponine!" Cosette complained, stomping out of the bedroom with her arms folded across her chest. "You were supposed to wait for me to wake Papa!"

"Sorry, Cosette," Eponine said abashedly. "I was just too excited."

"It's alright, 'Ponine," Valjean said, patting her on the back. "Come Cosette; there must be no sad faces today. Today you are eight years old, and that is something to be happy about. And as soon as we have eaten breakfast, we will go into town to begin celebrating."

Cosette was obviously still a little irritated with her sister, but the thought of a trip into town perked her up, and she allowed Valjean to give her a hug and a kiss before the little family convened at the breakfast table.

After feasting on some fresh brioche and honey that Valjean had gone to purchase the day before, the girls hurried to get dressed for their special day with their Papa. Before long, the trio exited the gates of the convent together for the first time, and made their way down the street.

"What are we going to do first, Papa?" Eponine asked, skipping alongside of him.

"Are we going to get cake?" Cosette asked.

"In time, Cosette," Valjean chuckled. "You have just eaten breakfast. I do not want you getting sick from eating too many rich foods at once. I thought perhaps we would take a walk in the Jardin du Luxembourg before we go shopping for your gifts. That way we can enjoy our morning without being burdened by packages."

"Are there flowers in the garden, Papa?" Cosette wanted to know.

"Perhaps a few," Valjean replied. "Although it is still early for most kinds of flowers to be blooming. But there will be plenty of birds flying about, and I have saved some crumbs of our brioche for you to feed them."

Both girls seemed pleased at this idea, and were excited upon arriving at the Luxembourg to find that Valjean was indeed correct. There were dozens of birds flying around, drawn back to Paris by the warm weather, and all of them were very hungry after the cold winter. The girls spent most of their morning alternating between chasing after the birds and coaxing them to sit on their hands by tempting them with brioche crumbs.

After a hard morning of playing, the girls began to beg for lunch. Valjean did not want to draw attention to himself in a fancy restaurant, but as the family strolled the streets next to the Luxembourg, a small, pretty café caught his eye. He led the girls inside, and they all shared a freshly baked quiche.

"Now is it time for cake, Papa?" Cosette asked, as the family exited the café.

"Patience, petit," Valjean said, tweaking her nose. "The bakery will be our last stop. First, we are going to buy your other present."

"What present, Papa?" Eponine asked.

"You'll see," he said mysteriously.

Valjean walked down the streets of Paris, holding each daughter by the hand and smiling as they exclaimed over the different sights to see in the shop windows. He finally came to a stop in front of a small dress shop, which displayed in the window two beautiful white voile dresses, made for children Cosette and Eponine's age. One was printed with sprigs of lavender and finished with a silk sash of the same color, while the other was printed with tiny pink rosebuds and decorated with a pink silk sash.

"I think those wool dresses you're wearing are going to be too warm soon," Valjean said with a twinkle in his eye. "Perhaps we can find something more suitable in here?"

Eponine and Cosette stared at the window, completely mesmerized by the gorgeous dresses. The woolen dresses they were wearing were very nice; certainly much nicer than anything they had ever worn when living in Montfermeil. But there was something undoubtedly feminine and delicate about the pristine white gowns on display in the window that made Eponine and Cosette long to try them on.

"I take it these dresses will suit you, mes filles?" Valjean asked, squeezing their hands lightly to wake them up from their trance.

"Oh yes, Papa!" Eponine breathed. Cosette did not take her eyes off the pink and white gown, but nodded her head to show her consent. Valjean chuckled warmly and led the girls into the shop. After trying the gowns on and subjecting them to a few minor alterations, the family left the shop, with Cosette and Eponine each holding onto their father with one hand and the parcels containing their dresses and matching hair ribbons in the other.

"Papa?" Cosette said, looking up at him expectantly.

Valjean laughed; he knew he should scold her for her impatience, but it was nice seeing her so animated. Usually Eponine tended to be the more talkative and forceful of the two. "Yes, Cosette," he said teasingly. "Now it is time for cake. The bakery is just down the street."

If it was possible, the little girls were even more overwhelmed by the bakery than they had been by the dress shop. Valjean had made sure they were fed well since they had arrived in Paris, and both of them had begun to fill out nicely. But if they had ever tasted something so luxurious as cake, it was a time so long ago they could not remember, before they lived with the Thenardiers.

"Each of you may pick one of the small cakes," Valjean instructed, leading them up to the glass display case.

"I would like that one, Papa!" Eponine chirped happily, pointing to a perfectly round cake encrusted with light blue frosting.

Cosette, however, was not so quick to be pleased. "Papa, none of them have sugared violets," she said mournfully.

The baker's wife overheard her and came over to the little family. "Pardon, Monsieur," she said. "We do not have sugared violets on our cakes, but we do sell bags of them separately. Perhaps your little one would like them instead?"

Valjean watched as Cosette bit her lip, clearly torn between the idea of a rich cake and delectable sugared violets. "I think we can manage to purchase both," he said, placing some money onto the counter. "We will take that blue cake there, a bag of sugared violets, and whatever cake you would like, Cosette."

"That one, Papa," Cosette said with a smile, pointing to a square cake with yellow icing. She was clearly happy she did not have to choose between her treats.

The baker's wife smiled and began to fill their order. "Your Papa spoils you, no?" she commented, addressing the little girls.

Valjean smiled and fondly rubbed his hands over their silky braids. "They are good girls," he said softly. "A little spoiling will not harm them." _Besides, I have nearly eight years of hardship to make up for_, he added silently.

"You are very blessed, Monsieur," the woman said, handing him the parcel of sweets. Valjean smiled and nodded in agreement, and after encouraging the girls to thank the woman, led them out of the bakery.

"Look, Papa!" Eponine said, pointing across the street. "There's a girl selling flowers! May we have some?"

Valjean followed the direction of Eponine's finger and noticed with a twinge of sadness that it was indeed a girl selling flowers. A girl who could not have been more than two years older than his own daughters, and whose dress had obviously seen better days. Valjean needed no second urging from his children to cross the street.

"Pardon, Mademoiselle," Valjean said kindly, as the family approached the girl. "How much for two bouquets of your best flowers?"

"Three sous apiece, Monsieur," the girl said timidly, bowing her head respectfully.

Cosette reached out to choose a bouquet of crocuses, while Eponine selected some fine camellias. Valjean smiled as they thanked the young girl without being prompted, and he pressed a coin into her hand.

The girl's eyes widened as she recognized the engraving that marked the coin as a gold Louis. "M…Monsieur…" she stammered, trying to hand the coin back to him. Valjean reached out and closed her hand over the coin.

"Thank you for the flowers," he said softly, giving her a kind smile. The girl had tears in her eyes as she curtsied and thanked him profusely.

"Well, mes enfants," Valjean said later that evening, as he watched in amusement while his daughters unceremoniously licked their fingers clean of cake frosting. "Did you have a nice birthday?"

"Oh yes, Papa!" Cosette exclaimed, getting up from her seat and coming to give him a hug. Eponine, however, began to frown from her own chair.

"Eponine?" Valjean asked concernedly. "Are you alright, ma Cherie?"

"I suppose so," Eponine said with a sigh. "But I just realized that we won't have another birthday for a whole year." Her face was so mournful that Valjean could not help but laugh as he got up and went to give her a comforting hug and kiss.

_March 22, 1824_

Eponine and Cosette were beaming as they walked with Papa to mass the next morning. The sun was shining brightly, so Papa had given them permission to wear their new dresses and hair ribbons. They were hopeful that their friends from school would see them.

Valjean smiled contentedly at the happy looks on the faces of his daughters. But his content did not last past the threshold of the sanctuary. As they entered the expansive place of worship, the smile instantly dropped from his face and his blood ran ice cold. For there was no mistaking the man sitting in the second pew, ramrod straight, mouth pressed in a firm line.

Javert had returned to Paris.

_Mes filles-my girls_

_Mes petites-my little ones_

_Mes anges-my angels_

_Ma petite Cosette/Eponine-my little Cosette/Eponine_

_Mes chéries/Cherie-my darlings/darling_

_Ma fille douce-my sweet girl_

_Mes enfants-my children_

**Told you the next chapter would be dramatic. Obviously, coming up next is Valjean freaking out about Javert and possibly making some drastic decisions. And possibly a parenting error or two. Want to find out what happens sooner rather than later? Leave me pretty reviews! Thanks for reading!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Well, much like Valjean, I had a surprise and unwelcome guest this week. However, I would have much preferred Javert to show up at my door as opposed to the flu that's been plaguing me the past few days. Still not feeling my best, but I really wanted to get this chapter out as a thank you to all my incredible reviewers, new and old! You guys have all been so supportive and encouraging, and I love how engaged you are in my story. To my guest reviewers, I'm sorry I can't PM any of you, but you've all left fabulous support as well and I really appreciate it. Just a heads up guys; there is actual spanking in this chapter (not much, but it's there), so if that freaks you out, just skip this chapter. Or just read the ending so you know what's going on :) Enjoy!**

It was like Valjean had gone deaf and blind all at once. He could not hear the chiming of the church bells, nor the hushed prattling of his daughters, nor see the stained glass windows, nor the lit candles on the altar. All of his senses shut down and collapsed into a single, petrified thought: Javert. He did not know why Javert had entered the convent; later he would realize that the man was most likely simply attending services. But the reason did not matter at that point to Valjean. His only thought was to get himself, and his daughters, away from the one person who could destroy their very lives.

Without saying a word, Valjean turned abruptly on his heel and made his way back towards the exit of the sanctuary. He had not let go of his daughters' hands, and they nearly lost their balance as their Papa dragged them along.

"Papa!" Eponine cried, stumbling to regain her footing. "Where are we going?"

"Hush," Valjean said sternly. They were not quite out of the sanctuary yet, and he could not risk Javert overhearing his children.

"But Papa," Cosette whined as they stepped into the courtyard. "You promised we could sit with our friends. I wanted to show Victoire my new dress."

"Be quiet," Valjean snapped, looking back over his shoulder. Fortunately, no one in the church seemed to be disturbed by their exit, but that did not mean that something; anything; would not eventually alert Javert to his presence.

Cosette and Eponine stared at each other questioningly as Valjean hurried them through the cemetery. It wasn't like Papa to be this brusque with them. He always took the time to answer their questions, and they never, ever missed Mass. Even when Papa had a head cold several weeks ago, he had sat through the services without complaint. But clearly something was wrong today; Papa hadn't gripped their hands this tightly or seemed this agitated since the night they fled through the streets of Paris.

Finally arriving to the relative safety of their quarters, Valjean pushed through the door and removed his coat, dropping it to the floor without a second thought. This perplexed Eponine and Cosette even more; Papa had always insisted they keep their little home tidy, though he had never been cross about it like the bad people in Montfermeil. Cosette hesitantly picked the heavy topcoat up off of the ground and stood up on her toes to hang it on its hook.

"Papa?" Eponine asked nervously, watching as Valjean pulled a large leather valise from under his bed. "What are you doing?"

"Go pack your things," Valjean ordered, not sparing even a small glance over his shoulder. "We are leaving immediately."

"To go where?" Cosette asked timidly, taking Eponine's hand for comfort.

"We cannot stay here any longer," Valjean said distractedly, not answering the question that he himself did not know the answer to. "We must find a new home. It is no longer safe in the convent."

"But Papa!" Eponine protested, more miffed than alarmed at this point. "This is our home! We have our school and our friends, and…"

"Go to your room and pack this instant!" Valjean barked, using one hand to point in emphasis as the other hand collected two silver candlesticks from the bedside table.

Cosette's lower lip protruded slightly in sadness, but she reluctantly started toward her room. Eponine, however, was not going to be ordered about without any explanation. She had come to expect more from her Papa over these past months, and he simply must tell her what was going on. She put a determined look on her little face and marched over to him.

"Papa," she insisted, "Why must we go? You have to tell us. We…"

"Eponine…" Valjean growled warningly, glaring at her out of the corner of his eye. "Not another word. Go collect your things this instant."

"No Papa!" Eponine cried, stomping her foot for emphasis. "I don't want to leave! It's not fair! I…"

In the years to come, Valjean would regard what happened next as the worst thing he had ever done in his life, and that included his original theft of bread and his later crime of stealing silver from Bishop Myriel. But much as Javert seemed to have a singular mindset of hunting down 24601, Valjean had a singular mindset of keeping himself and his daughters one step ahead of the Inspector; and right now, one of said daughters was impeding his efforts. Before Valjean comprehended what he was doing, he grabbed Eponine by the arm and smacked her twice, sharply, on her backside. "Enough!" he shouted.

The loudness of the swats and the shout combined stood in stark contrast to the deafening silence that followed as Valjean realized exactly what he had done. He stared down in horror at the palm that had just inflicted undeserved pain on his little girl. He had scolded both Cosette and Eponine several times before, and had known that one day he might have to punish them for some wrongdoing. But never in his worst nightmares did he dream that he would lose his temper and punish one of them unfairly and in anger.

Valjean slowly looked up from his hand and over to the bedroom door, where Cosette was standing, frozen, her mouth dropped open so far it would have been comical in any other situation. As he looked at her, she did not avert her eyes, but she took a startled step back into the wall. Not able to bear her horrified gaze, Valjean reluctantly looked down toward Eponine. The small girl was staring up at him; the stubborn look on her face wiped away by wounded feelings and shocked fear. Looking her father in the eye proved to be too much for Eponine; her face instantly crumpled, and she began to cry.

"Oh Sweet Jesus, what have I done?" Valjean breathed, falling to his knees and placing his hands on Eponine's shoulders. "Eponine, ma enfant, I…"

"Leave me alone!" Eponine wailed, trying to wrench herself from his grasp. The dull sting she felt in her bottom was only a little painful; not even close to anything she had suffered at the hands of the Thenardiers. But the physical pain she felt was nothing compared to the emotional pain she was suffering. She didn't understand why she had made Papa so angry. He had never shouted at her before, and while he had promised a spanking if she had ever seriously misbehaved, she had never driven him to actually do it. Eponine was frightened, and while she would normally go to her Papa for comfort, now she wanted nothing more than to run into her room and sob into her pillow, hugging Marguerite to her chest.

Valjean, now in a wild state of panic that he had done something potentially unforgiveable did not let go of his child, but instead scooped her into his arms. All thoughts of Javert and the galleys and fleeing through the streets of Paris left his mind. He had wronged his precious little girl, and he must make it right.

"Oh Eponine," he murmured, taking her onto the bed and rocking her as though she was an infant. "Forgive me, ma petit. I did not mean to hurt you. Please ma petite Eponine, do not cry. I am so sorry, ma petit."

Through her tears and despite her continued struggles, Eponine could hear a slight quiver in Valjean's voice as he spoke to her. When she finally dared a quick glance at him, she was startled to see that her Papa was crying too.

"Ma petite Eponine," Valjean choked, touching his hand gently to her tear stained cheek as she looked up at him. "Please ma Cherie, please forgive me. I am so sorry, ma fille précieuse."

Eponine could not stop the tears that flowed from her eyes. She could still feel the pain where she had been spanked, and she was still frightened by Valjean's earlier behavior. But she could also see in his eyes and hear in his voice that he was genuinely sorry, and she could tell that her real Papa was back, not the angry man who had been there moments before. Eponine stopped struggling and allowed Valjean to hold her close to his chest.

Valjean sent up a silent prayer that Eponine had stopped fighting him, and he placed his hand on the little girl's head, drawing it into his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Papa," Eponine whimpered, her voice muffled by his shirt.

"Oh, ma bébé," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her hair. "You have nothing to be sorry for. It is I who should be sorry for losing my temper. I was worried about something, and I took it out on you. You did nothing wrong, petit."

This brought on a fresh wave of tears from Eponine, who was relieved to know that she was not the cause of Papa's anger.

"Are you alright, ma ange?" Valjean asked concernedly, looking down at Eponine's woeful little face. "Did I…are you hurt badly?"

"No Papa," Eponine shook her head, allowing his shirt to soak up her remaining tears. "It just hurts a little."

Valjean sighed and gave her another kiss, relieved that he had not allowed his temper and brutish strength to do serious damage to his daughter, but angry at himself for causing her even the slightest amount of pain. "I am sorry for that, ma petit," he said sincerely. "I promise I will never strike you in anger again."

A soft sound made Valjean look away from the child in his arms, and he looked up to see that Cosette had finally taken a hesitant step away from the wall she had been plastered against for the duration of the traumatic events. Her eyes no longer seemed full of fear and reproach, and Valjean nodded his head toward her.

"Come, Cosette," he said, giving her a reassuring smile. He adjusted Eponine so she was sitting on his knee, though he kept one arm under her legs in case the pain from the undeserved swats had not yet faded. When Cosette timidly approached the pair, he drew her onto his other knee and held her close. Cosette allowed herself to be pulled into her Papa's chest, and she reached out to take Eponine's hand in her own. The two little girls looked at each other, and in the silent language shared only by twins, each assured one another that they were alright.

"Mes petites filles," Valjean said tenderly, rocking them both as they snuggled into his chest. "I am sorry for the way I have acted. I know I must have frightened you."

"Papa, will you tell us why you are angry?" Cosette asked hesitantly. "You always tell us to tell you when we are sad or upset."

Valjean gave the little girl a small, sad smile. If only the world could be as simplistic as it was in the mind of an eight year old child.

"Petits, do you remember the men who chased us through Paris the night we arrived at the convent?" Valjean asked seriously. The girls both affirmed the question with a nod. "I fear that some of those men may have realized we are living here. And if those men find us, they will separate us forever. That is why I became so angry. I was afraid that those men were going to take you away from me, and I cannot allow that to happen. It would break my heart to lose either of you."

"I don't want to leave you, Papa," Cosette whimpered, her earlier fear of Papa's behavior replaced by a new fear of losing him forever.

"Shush, I know, petit," Valjean said, kissing the crown of her blonde head. "And you will not have to. I will make sure they do not find us. But mon enfants, we do have to leave the convent. Not tonight, but as soon as I can find us a suitable place to live. I am sorry that you will have to leave your friends, but we cannot risk those men finding us."

"Why do those men keep chasing us, Papa?" Eponine asked worriedly.

"That is not for little girls to worry about," Valjean said gently, hoping that they would not beg for more explanation. He realized now that he could not keep everything from his two curious little daughters, but there were certain aspects of his past that he was not sure he would ever be ready to share with them. "But you do not have to worry about them, Eponine. I will find someplace safe for us to live. Perhaps I can find a house with a garden, and you can help me to grow flowers. Would you like that?"

"But what about school?" Cosette asked. "We were just starting to learn multiplication."

"I will continue your education," Valjean promised. "Once we are settled in our new home, I will purchase all the books you could ever hope to read. We will have our own little school, right in our house."

Eponine and Cosette looked at each other unsurely, but they certainly weren't going to argue, even though Papa was considerably calmer than he had been fifteen minutes ago. They did not want to leave the only pleasant home they had ever known, nor their first real friends. But most of all, they wanted for Papa to be happy and for the three of them to be together, so they silently agreed that they would not protest the move.

"Do you want us to go pack now, Papa?" Eponine asked in a small voice.

Valjean smiled at her and caressed her cheek. "I think that can wait a little while, Eponine," he said gently. "Perhaps I was a bit too hasty before." _Or several bits too hasty_, he thought ashamedly. Clearly Javert was not going to come barging into the house at any second, and his earlier reaction had obviously been completely unnecessary, not to mention unfair towards his daughters. His instinct to relocate was not out of place, but he could certainly take the time to find a nice little house; a pleasant place for the girls to grow up in. Perhaps he would buy several residences, so they could move around if necessary and avoid the unpleasantness of the current situation.

"You look tired, mes enfants," he said, noticing Eponine stifling a yawn. He remembered well from his own childhood that enduring a spanking, no matter how small, and the crying that came afterwards could be exhausting. "Would you like to take a nap before dinner?"

"Will you sleep with us, Papa?" Cosette asked. Valjean gave Eponine a quick, nervous glance, but the little girl gave him a slight smile, indicating that he was forgiven and welcome to join in the nap.

"The sounds like a splendid idea," Valjean said softly. He pushed himself back onto the bed, allowing the girls to curl up on his broad chest like kittens. As he gently rubbed their backs and soothed them into a deep sleep, he tried not to stare at the door in fear. He was still one step ahead of Javert, he reminded himself. For the moment, his little family was safe.

_ma fille précieuse-my precious girl_

_ma bébé-my baby_

_Mes petites filles-my little girls_

**I really wanted to join the Valjean/Cosette/Eponine group nap. I felt bad for all three of them this chapter, but after all the fluff in the past two chapters I had to do something. It is based on a story called "The Miserable Ones", after all. Coming up next: you guys tell me. I've got three big plotlines to do, and I'll write whichever one you guys want to see first. Your choices are: Cosette and Eponine sneak out of the house and get lost, Cosette or Eponine gets seriously ill, and Cosette and Eponine get in an angry sister fight. The order won't have much effect on the story, so I'm willing to bow to the wishes of my readers on this one :) There might be one filler chapter before the big plotline, but we'll see. Thanks for reading (and reviewing, hopefully)!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Well, it looks like every time Hugh Jackman loses another Best Actor award, you guys are going to get an update out of my depression. I mean, I like Daniel Day-Lewis as much as the next person, but how many awards does that guy need? Share the love, people! *sigh* Thanks to everyone who responded with their choices about which plot line I should do next. It was actually a pretty even tally across the board, although I really should have clarified the sneaking out plot. The girls are going to sneak out because they see some children playing the streets and they want to join them, not because they're going out to meet boys or are feeling rebellious (although I'm sure that will happen eventually). Bottom line: I'm still not sure which one I'm going to write next. I may just start typing and see how things work out. If anyone wants to discuss it with me, you are more than welcome to send me a PM. For now, this chapter's a little bit of filler, but hopefully a good combination of drama and fluff for everybody :) Enjoy!**

His daughters had been asleep for more than an hour, but Valjean still lay awake, occasionally stroking his hand over the small silky heads that rested against his chest. When he wasn't marveling at the complete trust and love the two little angels continued to show him, he was silently thanking God that he hadn't destroyed that trust and love completely by lashing out in anger at Eponine. He noted sadly that while Cosette was sprawled out on her back, Eponine had carefully snuggled up to him on her stomach, so the place where she had been spanked could have time to heal. The little girl had insisted that the swats hadn't been too painful, but Valjean knew that they had to have stung horribly, particularly since he wasn't thinking about what he was doing. He knew that if the time ever came that he would have to punish them, Heaven forbid, that he would have to be much more careful to reign in his impossible strength. Valjean gave Eponine a gentle kiss on her temple, and the little girl made a soft sleepy sound and cuddled in closer.

Eponine's childish assurance that he had been forgiven gave Valjean cause to relax, and he found his eyes beginning to grow heavy. But no sooner had he started to drift off than there was a violent banging at the door.

"24601!"

Valjean's eyes flew open, and he nearly dropped Cosette on the floor as he shot up from the bed. He must have been dreaming…it could not be real. The voice of Javert could not be echoing outside the door of his little home. But the banging continued, louder and stronger until the latch finally snapped off.

Cosette screamed as the barrage of policemen came storming into the house, and Eponine scrambled to hide behind Valjean. But there was nowhere for him to go; no way for him to protect either child. The only way out was through the window and the door on the other side of the room, and both of those were blocked by a row of stone-faced men wielding pistols. Valjean could feel his heart sink out of his very chest as he realized that he was finally trapped. There was no river to jump into, no piece of furniture heavy enough to fight off a dozen men. But his predicament did not stop him from wrapping his arms protectively around his two daughters as a formidable man broke stepped forward from the rest.

"Valjean," Javert said, his voice much quieter than it had been outside the door, dripping with intense satisfaction from the thrill of cornering his prey. "I should have looked here sooner. Only a man as immoral as you would have the audacity to hide within a house of the Lord."

"Javert, please," Valjean begged, his voice cracking. "I know I must pay the price for what I have done, but my children. You cannot…"

"They are not _your_ children, 24601," Javert cut him off, his voice growing harder as he continued. "Though I suppose you are almost equal to their true parent in the eyes of God…that prostitute, what was her name?"

"Fantine," Valjean retorted. Despite the situation, he found his hackles raise as the Inspector insulted the deceased woman; and, subsequently, his daughters.

"Fantine," Javert repeated, taking another step closer. "Well, Fantine may be seeing her precious children sooner than she thinks. Take them out to the streets where they belong," he ordered, and two of the younger officers stepped forward.

"No!" Valjean shouted, trying to hold them off with his feet and elbows as he clung to his daughters, who began screaming in terror as the men started to grab at them. A third officer came up from behind and clubbed him on the head with his pistol, and Valjean lost his grip on his children.

"Papa! Help me!" Cosette wailed, her arms stretching back toward him as one of the policemen wrapped his arms around her stomach and began to haul her toward the door.

"Papa!" Eponine shrieked, trying in vain to kick the second officer in the stomach. But the unfeeling man slapped the little girl in the face, his expression unchanging as he dragged her away from her father.

"Cosette!" Valjean shouted, breaking free of the third man and rising to his feet. "Eponine!" But a nod from Javert signaled the other officers to move in, and Valjean was soon overwhelmed with blows.

"I warned you, Valjean," Javert sneered, glaring at the helpless man in front of him. "There is no place for you to hide."

But Valjean was not in fear of his own freedom at that moment; only that of his daughters. In a last ditch attempt, he managed to wrest one of the nightsticks away from a younger officer, and he began to swing at the policemen. "Cosette!" he coughed, as he sustained a heavy blow to the stomach. "Eponine!"

"Enough," Javert said coldly, stepping into the fray and delivering an incapacitating blow to the back of Valjean's head. Cosette and Eponine began to sob at the sight of their Papa falling to the floor as they were ripped away from him forever.

As Valjean slid to the ground, he knew nothing but the cold sensation of the cuffs around his wrist and the pitiful cries echoing farther and farther away: "Papa! Papa!"

"_Papa? Papa!"_

Valjean sat up so quickly that he nearly cracked his skull on the headboard of his simple wooden bed. He placed a hand to his chest as he tried to control his heavy, labored breathing. _A dream_, he thought to himself, feeling his heart pounding beneath his skin. _It was only a dream. _The nightmare had seemed so real; as real as it had seemed every night since he first saw Javert at the convent. No matter how often he managed to convince himself during his waking hours that he and the children were safe, he could never convince himself in his dreams.

Indeed, the little family could not have been much safer unless they had crossed the sea to another country. The day after spotting Javert in the convent, Valjean sent the girls off to school, knowing that the nuns would never allow a police officer to roam into the school building with their pupils. While his children were happily doing their lessons, the memories of the previous day already beginning to fade, he was scouting around town, looking for anywhere he and his children could call a safe haven. Sometime after lunch, after inquiring with several landlords, he found the perfect place.

The little house on Rue Plumet had an almost fairytale quality about it. The house was not large, consisting of only two bedrooms, a kitchen, and a sitting room off of a narrow hallway, but it was already considerably more spacious than the tiny shack the family was currently occupying. The house was far away from the busier streets of Paris, and it was even more sheltered from unwanted guests by its large, overgrown garden. Ivy crept up all sides of the brick walls, and the back of the house was filled with trees that would bear fruit and flowers come the summer months. Already Valjean could see crocus buds peeping out from the ground, and the entire front wall of the house was lined with rosebushes.

After some quick negotiation, Valjean paid a full year's rent for the house, ignoring the shocked look on the landlord's face when he produced an enormous sum of money from his coat pocket. He asked the dumbfounded man if he knew of any cheap apartments located in the city that might be available for rent as well, and the man directed him to a building at Rue de l'Homme Arme. Valjean paid another year's rent for a small, two-room apartment, so he could be secure in the knowledge that he and his girls would always have somewhere to run, should Javert discover their other place of residence.

Eponine and Cosette were disappointed that evening when he told them they would be leaving the next morning. They were sad to leave their friends, but they soon forgot their sadness when they saw the enchanting garden that they would have all to themselves. Their moods were further improved when Valjean took them to some off-the-beaten-path shops to purchase a whole new bedroom set, including a canopy bed made of deep cherry wood and a vanity with a mother-of-pearl inlaid mirror. For himself, he selected an almost Spartan-like bedroom set, with no added adornments, and a simple wool blanket. For his daughters, he procured soft cotton sheets and a thick bedspread covered with embroidered flowers. It was all rather expensive, but he had relocated his stash of money to the backyard of the new house, and it was entirely worth it to see the bright smiles on Eponine and Cosette's faces, particularly after recent events.

And thus, the little family started anew once more. The girls laughed and played as they had in the convent, and made their father smile with their antics. During the day he helped them with their lessons, and in the evening they all sat together, reading or sewing or talking over little things. But at night, when his daughters were sound asleep in their new bedroom, Valjean lay restless, still pondering the many ways in which Javert could hunt him down and end his very reason for living.

"Papa?" the little voice repeated, shaking Valjean from his dismal thoughts. He looked over at the doorway and saw two little nightgown-clad figures standing barefoot, their faces illuminated by a single candle.

"Mes anges," Valjean sighed, taking a moment to bask in the relief of seeing their faces before turning to the obvious question. "What are you doing out of bed? It is very late."

"You called our names, Papa," Cosette said confusedly. "We could hear you all the way down the hall. You kept saying again and again, 'Cosette! Eponine!' We came as fast as we could."

Valjean sighed more deeply this time and ran a hand through his curly hair, mussed from his tossing and turning. He really was going to have to visit the doctor soon and get something to help him sleep. It was one thing for him to be plagued by nightmares; it was quite another for the girls to be roused from their beds by his fitful sleep.

"I am sorry, mes petits," he said, giving them a weary smile. "Papa was having a nightmare. I did not mean to wake you."

"A nightmare, Papa?" Eponine asked, her eyes growing wide with concern. "About what?"

"Nothing for you to worry about, mon petit," Valjean said reassuringly. _And you know that is true, so stop driving yourself mad with these ridiculous notions, man. Javert is not going to find you, not here, _he rebuked himself internally.

Eponine opened her mouth to speak again, but was cut off when her sister shoved Catharine into her arms and walked off toward the kitchen, taking the little candle with her.

"Cosette?" Valjean called, concerned about the child traipsing about the house with so little light. "What are you doing, petit?"

Cosette quickly returned, a clean white rag dripping with water dangling from her free hand. "Here Papa," she said, placing the candle on the nightstand and coming to the side of the bed. "Put this on your forehead and lie back down."

Valjean's eyes widened in surprise at the authoritative tone present in her little voice. "Cosette, there is no need for that. I'm quite alright."

"A cold rag is just the thing for a nightmare," Cosette said superiorly. "I read it in one of my storybooks. Go on now, Papa, lie down."

"Very well, Cosette," Valjean said, trying to hide his amusement at being scolded like a child as he obligingly lay down and accepted the rag. "But I believe the best medicine for me would be to know that my two petites filles are sound asleep in their warm bed."

"Not until you're asleep, Papa," Cosette argued. "I don't want you making yourself sick with your bad dreams."

"Cosette…"

The child in question crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him stubbornly. Behind her, Eponine nodded once to show that she agreed with her sister's decree. Valjean raised a stern eyebrow at them, but it was late and he was in no mood to argue.

"May I suggest a compromise, my stubborn girls?" he asked, indicating in his tone that said compromise was not merely a suggestion. "How about you sleep in here with me, just for the evening? That way if I become desperately ill, you will not be far away."

Cosette glanced over her shoulder at Eponine, who nodded once more. Satisfied with this suggestion, Cosette took Catharine back from her sister and crawled into bed, Eponine following close behind.

"You must sleep in the middle, Papa," Cosette instructed. "If I am on one side and 'Ponine is on the other, nothing can harm you."

Valjean could barely stop himself from rolling his eyes at that comment, but as he settled himself and his daughters under the sheets, he realized that Cosette's mothering ways had actually made him feel a bit better. The cool rag did feel good against his forehead, so sweaty from his restless dreams, and Cosette's head on his shoulder and Eponine clutching his arm gave him the assurance he needed that his daughters were safe. Before he knew it, he was drifting off for the first night of sound sleep he had gotten in well over a week.

Valjean slept much later than usual, and when he cracked open his eyes the next morning, he was startled by two concerned little girls, kneeling over him and staring about three inches away from his face.

"Good morning, mes anges," he said, recovering from the surprise after remembering the events of the previous night. "I suppose you are hungry for your breakfast?"

"Oh no, Papa," Cosette said, reaching behind him and plumping his pillow. "You stay right here. We are going to make you breakfast. I'll go right now and fix you some eggs and toast. We must make sure you are completely recovered from last night."

Valjean was touched that his daughters were taking such good care of him (though it was wholly unnecessary), but he cringed when Cosette mentioned breakfast. His little blonde daughter was talented at sewing, and was clearly a natural caregiver, but when she was set loose in the kitchen, disaster tended to strike. Cosette was well known for leaving things to burn, and on one infamous occasion, she had seasoned the vegetable soup with sugar instead of salt. Fortunately Eponine was much more adept at cooking, so Valjean usually instructed both of them to prepare the meals together, knowing that Eponine would intervene before anything could catch on fire.

As if she could read his mind, Eponine reached out and patted his arm. "I'll make breakfast, Papa," she said, giving him a secret smile. "Cosette, you stay with Papa. We shouldn't leave him alone."

"Good idea," Cosette said seriously, oblivious to the silent exchange that had just taken place before her. "Here Papa, let me rewet this cloth for you."

As Valjean watched one daughter scamper off to the kitchen and one daughter head for the washbasin, both fully intent on making sure he was comfortable and well, he felt the weight of the previous night lift from his shoulders. Javert would always be in the outside world, but that did not mean he could shatter the little dream world Valjean and his children had created in this tiny house.

**Sorry to any Javert fans out there…I didn't mean to write him as such a heartless creep; it just kind of flowed out of me. I don't really think he would say all that stuff…I doubt it was even legal for him to just throw Cosette and Eponine on the streets, and I think he has more morals than that, but it was Valjean's nightmare, so anything goes. Coming up next: like I said, I don't know yet. I'm trying to figure out one little plot point, and that will have a major effect on what comes next. I don't know when my next update will be, but let me just tell you guys that I've never updated a story this quickly or this faithfully, and it is all thanks to the incredible reviews you've all been leaving me. I mean seriously, who wouldn't want to update when people are calling your writing "inspiring" and "a masterpiece"? You guys cannot even begin to know how much all your kind words have meant to me, and I just want to thank you from the bottom of my heart. I hope you continue to stick with me as my little story unfolds! **


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey guys! This was definitely the hardest chapter for me to write thus far, for a variety of reasons that you'll soon discover, and it's also turned out to be the longest. I'm very nervous about the direction of this chapter, so if you hate it don't tell me-it'll just make me sad. Please just be nice. Thank you to everyone who's reviewed thus far, and a big thank you to all my new reviewers! Enjoy!**

_October 8, 1824_

"Alright, les filles, I will be back before sundown," Valjean said, buttoning up his coat while standing at the entrance to the sitting room. Though it was only the beginning of October, a distinct chill had set in the air, and Valjean wanted to be well-protected from the elements as he completed the weekly grocery shopping. "Is there anything special you would like from town?"

"Pain au chocolat!" Cosette said excitedly, looking up from the sampler she was stitching.

"Why does this request not surprise me?" Valjean said with a twinkle in his eye. Cosette was notorious for her sweet tooth. "Eponine, mon cher? Is there anything you would like?"

"No thank you, Papa," Eponine said, smiling sweetly at him from the couch as she knit. Valjean smiled back at her; while Eponine may have been the feistier of the two children, she was also the easiest to please.

"Very well, then," he said, taking his hat from the stand and placing it on his head. "Remember, les filles, do not play in the yard while I am gone, and do not open the door should anyone knock."

"Yes Papa," the two little girls chorused. Valjean gave them one last fond smile and headed for the door.

The two sisters sat in amicable silence for more than an hour, each hard at work on her own project. Cosette was painstakingly covering her sampler with tiny rosebuds, while Eponine was working on what would eventually become a scarf for Papa. Occasionally, they would make some comment toward each other, but for the most part they were absorbed in their work, until a jubilant sound from the street made Eponine's ears perk up.

"Listen, Cosette," she said, placing her knitting beside her on the couch. "It sounds like there are children playing outside. Let's go join them!"

Cosette looked up from her stitching and frowned. "'Ponine, Papa said we're not allowed to go outside."

"He said we weren't allowed to play in the yard," Eponine countered, though she knew perfectly well that her sister was right. "He said nothing about playing in the street."

"I don't think that's what Papa meant, 'Ponine…"Cosette began uncomfortably.

"Oh please Cosette!" Eponine begged, jumping up from the couch and going to take her sister's hand. "We haven't gotten to play with any other children since we left the convent. We'll be back before Papa knows we're gone, I promise!"

Cosette looked doubtfully at her sister, but just as she was about to refuse, the laughing of the children grew louder. She could tell they were passing right by the house, and it sounded as though there was some sort of rowdy game taking place.

"Alright, 'Ponine," she said reluctantly, setting down her sampler and rising to her feet. "If you're sure Papa won't get angry with us."

"He'll never know," Eponine promised excitedly, dragging her sister to the doorway to pick up their shawls. "Hurry up; I think the children are starting to leave!"

Despite rushing to put on their woolen shawls and bonnets and running out the door, the children the girls had heard were out of sight by the time they reached the street.

"Come on, Cosette!" Eponine said, tugging her sister along. "I can still hear them! Let's catch up!"

Now excited at the prospect of this new adventure, Cosette allowed Eponine to lead her down the twists and turns of the narrow streets, following the happy sounds of the children. But neither child was very fast, seeing as how there wasn't much room to run around in their little garden at home. Before long, the sounds had faded away.

"I think we've lost them, 'Ponine," Cosette panted, stopping in the middle of the street. "Maybe we should just go home."

Eponine was inclined to agree with her sister. She was rather worn out from all the running they had done, but before they could turn around, a scratching sound coming from an old crate gave her pause. "Wait, Cosette. I hear something in there. Let's see what it is!"

Cosette was unsure about inspecting strange sounds coming from a dirty old box, but much to her delight, when the girls approached the crate, they were greeted by the sight of an adorable little puppy, not more than six months old.

"Oh Cosette, look!" Eponine squealed, reaching out to stroke the animal's little black and white head. "He's so darling!"

"He really is," Cosette breathed, scratching behind the puppy's ears and giggling as its little tongue licked her wrist. "Oh 'Ponine, do you think Papa will let us keep him?"

"Maybe," Eponine said hopefully. "But we couldn't tell him we found him on the streets. Then he would know we left the house."

"You're right," Cosette said with a thoughtful frown. "We'll have to say he came up to the window and began barking. Maybe Papa won't be mad if we say we opened the door for a puppy instead of a person."

"Good idea," Eponine agreed. "Here boy," she cooed, reaching her hands out to grasp the puppy.

The little creature had been perfectly content to have his head rubbed, but he was not so keen on being picked up. With an indignant yip, he scrambled out of Eponine's grip and bounded down the street.

"Oh no!" Eponine cried, getting to her feet and starting to run again. "Come on, Cosette! We can't let him get away!"

And so the girls continued their run through the back streets of Paris, but the puppy, not unlike the group of playing children, proved to be too fast for them, and before long the girls were forced to give up.

"'Ponine, I'm tired," Cosette whined, placing her hand on her sister's shoulder for balance as she fought to catch her breath. "Please, we have to go home. We're never going to find our puppy, and Papa will be home soon."

"I suppose you're right," Eponine said reluctantly. "Let's go."

The children grasped hands and turned around, and were both struck at the same time with an identical horrible thought.

"Eponine?" Cosette whispered. "Do you know the way home?"

"Um…" Eponine began, looking around frantically for some familiar landmark. Though they did not frequently venture outside the house with Papa, they had gone on walks occasionally, always taking the same path to the Jardin de Luxembourg. But Eponine did not recognize the street they were on from those leisurely strolls, and she bit her lip in concern. "No, I don't," she admitted.

"The sun is going down," Cosette said, her voice starting to tremble. "Eponine, it's going to be dark soon! We'll never find our way home!"

"Maybe…maybe Papa will come looking for us," Eponine said, though she sounded more nervous than confident. "Maybe he…"

"And if he does, then he'll know we left the house when he told us not to!" Cosette burst out, the fear in her voice replaced by anger. "This is all your fault, Eponine! I never should have listened to you!"

"Cosette, I'm sorry!" Eponine cried, knowing her sister was right and feeling horrible because of it. "I didn't mean for us to get lost! I just…"

"Here now, what's this, boys?" a sharp voice called from the darkness.

Eponine and Cosette instantly forgot their quarrel and grasped each other's hand more tightly as they turned toward the sound. A band of four boys made their way toward them, and from the looks of their clothing, they were not the sort of boys one would call proper. They all appeared to be a few years older than the girls, with scruffy hair and sneering looks on their faces.

"Well, well," the tallest of the boys said, folding his arms across his chest as he regarded the little girls. "Looks like we've found a pair of lost chicks."

"More like swans than chicks," the second boy said, much stockier than the first. "Look at them fancy dresses…they're bourgeois if I've ever seen."

"Yeah, and you know what that means, eh boys?" a third one said, stepping out from the group and circling behind Eponine and Cosette. "Means they got money."

Though she was growing more and more alarmed as the boys drew closer, Eponine managed to find her voice. "We don't have any money," she said, softly but clearly.

"Aw, come off it, pet," the tall boy said, leaning in toward her with a leering grin. "Don't play games now. Little Mademoiselles with shiny shoes like that always got some spare change. Now are you gonna give it up nice like or do I have to take it from you?"

He grabbed at Eponine's arm and pulled her toward him. Cosette screamed in fright, tugging at her sister's hand, but the gang of boys just laughed at her distress.

"Scream all you want, pet, but we're getting what we came for," the tall boy taunted, while his friends cheered him on.

"Leave them alone, Alain," a calm, steady voice ordered, cutting through the ruckus. The group of boys and the pair of girls looked over and saw another boy, no more than twelve, approaching the crowd.

"Sorry Jourdain," the boy who was apparently called Alain said, dropping Eponine's arm and turning to face the newcomer. "You're a little late to get a cut outta this. Best show up earlier next time."

"There's nothing to get a cut from, Alain," the boy called Jourdain snapped. "They're not even wearing coats. Where would they be keeping their money? Besides, they're just little girls…they've got to be at least four years younger than you. Leave them alone."

"Oh, come off it, Jourdain!" Alain exclaimed. "You hate the bourgeois just as much as the rest of us. What's it matter if we rough one up every now and then?"

"I don't hate the bourgeois, Alain," Jourdain said, taking another deliberate step toward the crowd. "I hate seeing people treated as lesser than human beings, which is exactly the way you're treating these girls right now, bourgeois or not. Now for the last time: let them be."

Alain took a challenging step toward Jourdain, and for a moment the girls' breath caught in their throat. The boy Jourdain was not tall, a good bit shorter than their towering tormenter, but he held his chin high and defiant, his mouth and eyes hard as stone. Alain regarded him for a moment, and then shook his head.

"You're a queer one, Jourdain," he scoffed. "But have it your way. Boys, let's go!" The gang followed their leader, looking a bit deflated that they hadn't at least gotten a fight for their troubles, and Jourdain turned to the young Fauchelevant children.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, the expression on his face unchanging.

Cosette shook her head, eyes large as she regarded their savior. Eponine did not respond; her arm was hurt from where Alain had grabbed her, she was cold and frightened, and in spite of herself, she burst into tears.

Jourdain's eyes widened in alarm at the sight of the little girl crying. He had no younger siblings to speak of, and he was unused to the sound of children's wails.

"Erm…please don't cry," he implored, awkwardly shoving his hands into his pockets. "You don't have to worry. They're gone now, and I won't hurt you."

"It sounded like you were friends with them," Cosette said somewhat boldly, feeling as though she had to step up and be brave. Though she was angry at Eponine for leading them astray, she was still her sister.

"Not hardly," Jourdain scoffed. "We all live in the same part of town. But I prefer more civilized company than the likes of Alain and his gang. I would certainly never rob two little girls."

Cosette nodded, accepting the words of the boy who had come to their rescue, but Eponine continued to sob, oblivious to what was going on around her.

Cosette sighed and placed a comforting hand on her sister's arm. "'Ponine, don't cry," she said softly. "They're gone now."

"But…we're lost!" Eponine hiccupped, tears streaming down her face. "And Papa will be angry…and we almost got robbed…and…and…and it's all my fault!"

Cosette couldn't really argue with any of that, but she continued to pat her sister's shoulder just the same. "Maybe Papa won't be angry," she tried. "Maybe he'll just be happy we're safe, or maybe he was late at the store, or…" her voice trailed off as Eponine's sobs grew louder.

While the sisters were carrying on their pitiful conversation, Jourdain, not knowing what else to do, had quietly pulled a scrap on paper from the pocket of his trousers and began to twist it around in his hands. For some reason, the cries of this lost little girl pulled at his young heart strings, and at that moment, he wanted nothing more than to see her smile. Finishing his task, he stepped toward the pair and knelt in front of Eponine.

"Here," he said softly, holding out the piece of paper, which he had cleverly formed into a small rose. "Please, don't cry. I will try and help you find your way home."

Eponine's tears stopped as she stared at her gift in surprise before meeting Jourdain's eyes. "You…you can take us home?" she asked hopefully.

"Of course," Jourdain said, allowing himself to smile at the younger girl. "Just tell me where you live. It will be alright…'Ponine, is it?"

"Eponine," she corrected, scrubbing at her eyes with her fist. "But…you can call me 'Ponine," she said, returning his smile shyly as she accepted the rose and tucked it into the sash on her dress.

"And I'm Cosette," Cosette chimed in, reaching down to grasp her sister's hand once more.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Cosette. 'Ponine," Jourdain replied. "My name is Jourdain." He stood to his feet and offered out his hand, which Eponine accepted, staring up at him with something akin to adoration. "Now, what is your address?"

"Number 55 Rue Plumet," Cosette told him.

Jourdain whistled softly. "That's quite a distance away from here. What are you doing so far away from home?"

"It's my fault," Eponine whispered, ducking her head ashamedly. "I wanted to leave the house and play, even though Papa told us not to. We left while he was out shopping, but we ran too far. He's going to be very angry at us."

"Well, the sun has not yet set," Jourdain pointed out. "Perhaps we can arrive home before your father. And even if we don't, I'm sure he will be very happy that you are safe. I know my mother is always more worried than angry when I come home late." He accompanied his comforting words with a gentle squeeze to Eponine's hand, and she smiled up at him gratefully.

"I don't care anymore," Cosette declared, as the trio began to make their way down the street. "I just want to go home."

It was good that Cosette felt that way, for Valjean had returned home and was currently in a state of utter panic. It had not taken him long to realize his daughters were not safe in the house as he had presumed, and his first thought was that they might have been kidnapped. He began to ransack the small residence, looking for some sign of intrusion, or perhaps a ransom note. When his searches revealed nothing, he was struck with a greater horror: what if Javert had indeed discovered his hideaway? What if he had taken his children in an attempt to lure 24601 out into the open? After ten minutes of driving himself utterly mad with the possibilities of what could have happened, he realized that he was not going to find any answers in the confines of his home. Without stopping to put his coat back on, Valjean sprinted out the door and down the street. Fortunately, he only had to reach the corner on Rue Plumet before hearing the loveliest sound he had ever heard in his life.

"Papa!" Cosette cried, dropping her sister's hand and running toward her father.

"Cosette!" Valjean shouted, charging down the street and dropping to his knees to collect his daughter in his arms. "Eponine!" he added, as his other child joined the embrace. "Oh thank God you are safe!"

"I was so scared, Papa!" Cosette whimpered, hugging him tightly around his neck.

"Oh mon enfants, what happened to you?" Valjean questioned, in between giving each of them kisses on their little cheeks. That was when he noticed that he and his little family were not alone. "Who are you?" he asked the strange boy, more harshly than he ought, perhaps, but he was not in the mood for pleasantries.

"He saved us, Papa," Eponine said, turning to stare at the young boy in wonderment. "We were lost, and he helped us find our way home."

"He made a gang of horrid boys that were trying to rob us leave us alone!" Cosette exclaimed, and Valjean's eyes widened in shock at this news.

"Trying to rob you?" he asked, sure that he had misheard his child. "Good Heavens, are you alright? How did you come to be lost? Did those boys kidnap you?"

Eponine and Cosette looked at each other nervously, both knowing that Papa was not going to be hugging them so tightly in a moment. Eponine swallowed hard, knowing that since it was her idea, she should be the one to tell Papa.

"We…we left the house while you were gone, Papa," Eponine admitted. "We wanted to play with a group of children, but they disappeared. And then we found a puppy, but he ran away. And before we knew it, we were lost."

Valjean did not hear his daughter's nonsensical explanation about children and a puppy. His ears had stopped working after her first sentence. Surely Eponine had not just admitted to him that she and her sister had directly disobeyed him.

"You left the house?" he repeated slowly. "Of your own accord? After I specifically told you not to?" When the girls both gave him a reluctant nod, he stood suddenly to his feet, afraid that if he stayed on the same level as his children, he might do something he regretted. Both Cosette and Eponine saw his expression change from relief to confusion to fury, and they shrank back, knowing that this time, there was no doubt they were the cause of said fury. Jourdain, of course, did not know Valjean as his daughters did, but he recognized an angry adult when he saw one, and he thought it best if he departed without a word.

"Boy!" Valjean called out as Jourdain turned to leave. "What is your name?"

Jourdain removed his cap and tilted his head respectfully. "Jourdain, Monsieur," he replied. "Jourdain Enjolras."

Valjean nodded once and stepped toward him, reaching in his vest pocket as he did so. "Well, Monsieur Enjolras. I cannot thank you enough for escorting my daughters home. Please accept this token of my gratitude."

Enjolras looked down at the sizeable mound of gold coins Valjean had pressed in his hand. "No Monsieur, I could not," he said, shaking his head and trying to give back the money. "I do not accept charity."

"It is not charity, mon fils," Valjean said sincerely. "You have returned something to me which is invaluable. There is no way I could ever hope to repay you. But please, do me the favor of accepting this small compensation."

Jourdain studied the man in front of him, and saw a deep gratitude and compassion in his eyes that the boy was unaccustomed to. Slowly he nodded, and slipped the money into his jacket pocket.

"Merci, Monsieur," he said quietly. "Cosette, Eponine, I am glad to see that you are safe. Please do not venture so far again…the streets are not kind, and I will not always be there to protect you." With another tilt of his cap, Jourdain turned and started to walk away.

"Jourdain!" Eponine cried, taking a step in his direction when he turned to the sound of her voice.

"Thank you, Jourdain, for saving us," she said, a tiny smile forming on her lips. "I won't forget you."

In spite of himself, Jourdain left half of his mouth twist upward into a smile as the little girl thanked him. "Nor I you, Mademoiselle Eponine," he said, giving her a wink, before heading off towards the setting sun.

During this whole exchange, Valjean found his eyebrows drawing closer together. The way Eponine looked at this boy with such admiration…it was almost like she…_Good Heavens, man, the child is only eight years old_, he reminded himself. _She would have been just as grateful to any stranger who helped her find her way home. She looked at you the same way not so long ago in the woods of Montfermeil. _Besides, even if Eponine was developing some sort of puppy love for this young lad, it was of no consequence. She would never see him again, and right now, there were far more pressing matters to attend to, like getting his daughters safely into the house and dealing with their disobedience.

"Papa?" Cosette asked in a small voice, drawing him away from his jumbled thoughts. "Are you angry?"

"Yes, Cosette," Valjean said sternly, not bothering to beat around the bush. "I am angry, and disappointed in both of you. Come. We will discuss this inside where it's warm."

Cosette and Eponine both took the hands their father offered them and followed him toward the house. But as they each looked up and saw the hard look in their father's eyes, they weren't entirely sure they wouldn't rather still be on the streets.

_Mon cher-my dear_

_Mon fils-my son_

**Well, for all of you who started reading this because I advertised it as Enjonine, I hope you liked that little cameo :) And I hope that it will tide you over, because we probably won't be seeing Enjolras again for a while. I tried to make their first meeting come across as cute and sweet, so I hope it didn't read as a creepy, Twilight imprinting type deal. I mostly just wanted them to meet while they were young because by the time Eponine is a teenager, Enjolras will be deeply committed to his relationship with Patria, and there needed to be some reason why Eponine takes his focus off of that a bit. Coming up next: if you can't figure that out than clearly you didn't read the last few paragraphs. Valjean is not happy with his daughters, and they are not going to be able to talk their way out of this one. I hope you liked it!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Well, you guys found the secret to getting me to update quickly: give me 20+ reviews per chapter. Guess I didn't need to be worried about the last chapter at all! A few of you asked me in your reviews if the story is ever going to make a time jump: yes and no. I still have a few more plots I want to have happen when the girls are young, but I'm estimating somewhere around chapter 15, we'll get into the more "familiar" time period of the story. Unless, of course, you guys have more requests for their childhood that I can work with; I'm going to be very sad to leave little Cosette and Eponine behind, but I only have so many ideas. WARNING: Yes, this chapter is going to contain spanking…they could have gotten themselves killed, what did you expect? It's not going to be very severe and things will be all fluffy again by the end of the chapter, but if that's not your thing, don't read. I'm almost as nervous about this chapter as I was about the last one, so please be nice! Enjoy! **

Cosette and Eponine had every right to be nervous; Valjean was nearly beside himself with fury over what they had done. It was taking every ounce of self-control he had not to start yelling at his daughters right there in the street. He was upset enough when he thought they had been kidnapped or worse, but to find out they had deliberately put themselves in such danger made him so angry it scared him. Fortunately, during the brief time he had taken to speak to the boy who had brought them home, he had reminded himself that the last time he allowed his temper to get the better of him, it had not gone well for anyone involved. With that thought in mind, he drew several deep, calming breaths as he led his children back through the gate and up the walkway to their home.

Valjean opened the door to the little house and held it, allowing his daughters to enter before he followed. Closing the door with enough force to almost be considered a slam, he turned and folded his arms across his chest, looking sternly down at the two little girls in front of him. Their hair was a mess under their bonnets from all the running they had done, and there were traces of dirt on their cheeks, no doubt from the sooty air present in the more dangerous streets of Paris. But the dirt and straggly pieces of hair could not hide the remorseful looks on their faces and the hunched way they held their shoulders, and Valjean felt the hard look on his face soften ever so slightly. They looked so pitiful that he was half tempted to pick them up and tell them all was forgiven, and take them into the kitchen for some fresh pain au chocolat. But before he gave into his temptation, he reminded himself of all the terrible things that could have happened to them out on the streets, and he once again found himself furious at his wayward little girls.

Unsure of what to say, lest he say something he regretted, Valjean drew his hand wearily across his face and glanced around the hallway, his gaze landing on the clock standing on a little table. "It is long past time for supper," he said finally. "And those dresses were not nearly warm enough for the weather outside today. Go to your room and wash up, and get into your nightgowns. I will prepare some food for you."

"Papa…" Eponine began, her voice small and tentative.

Valjean held up his hand to silence her. "We will talk after you are warm and fed," he said firmly. Though if he were being honest with himself, supper was just a convenient excuse to give him time to calm down and decide how to deal with the situation. "Now do as I say. To your room."

Eponine and Cosette lowered their heads in resignation and trudged slowly off to their room, as their father watched them with a look that was a mixture of anger, disappointment, and a slight hint of sadness.

Once they had closed their bedroom door behind them, the two sisters both plopped down on the settee next to door. "I'm sorry, Cosette," Eponine said miserably.

"So am I," Cosette said, somewhat bitterly. "Papa was so angry he could hardly look at us. I never should have let you talk me into going outside."

"You didn't have to come, you know," Eponine shot back, more hotly than she intended, but the stress of the situation was getting to her. "And there's no sense in blaming me now. Isn't it bad enough that Papa's angry at us without us being angry at each other?"

Both sisters glared at each other for a moment before Cosette sighed, realizing that Eponine was right. "I guess I could have said no," Cosette admitted grudgingly. "I'm sorry, 'Ponine. I'm just scared."

"Me too," Eponine said dejectedly. "What do you think Papa's going to do?"

"Well, he's making us supper, so he's not going to send us to bed without it," Cosette said. "Do you think he's going to…" she trailed off, not wanting to finish her sentence.

Eponine nodded, understanding that saying it out loud made it even scarier. "I think so," she whispered, reaching out to take her sister's hand. Cosette accepted her grasp gratefully, and the two sat in silence for a moment.

"'Ponine?" Cosette asked finally. "Did it hurt before? That time when Papa spanked you, when we still lived in the convent?"

"Yes," Eponine confessed, wincing a bit as she remembered her previous encounter with the palm of her father's hand. It had hurt, and that time she hadn't even done anything wrong.

"Did it hurt as much as before? Like when the bad people…"

Eponine shook her head wildly, effectively cutting her sister off. "No, not like that. It only hurt for a little while. And I didn't even notice it so much when Papa held me afterward."

"Do you think he'll hold us afterward this time?" Cosette asked hopefully.

"I don't know," Eponine shrugged. "I don't know if I deserve it," she added softly.

The clattering of a pot from the kitchen made both of the girls jump. "We'd better do what Papa says," Cosette said. "We don't want him to think we're disobeying again." Eponine nodded in agreement, and the girls stood up to retrieve their nightgowns from the bureau.

While Cosette and Eponine were pondering their fate in their bedroom, Valjean aimlessly stirred the leftover stew over the stove as he pondered the exact same thing. _You knew this day would come,_ he reminded himself. _They are little girls; they cannot remain perfectly behaved every single day._ _It isn't as though you didn't make similar mistakes in your youth_. Indeed, as he prepared the food and contemplated his daughters' misbehavior, Valjean was struck with a long forgotten memory of a time when he had gone to play with his friends and returned home well after nightfall. He had only been a year or so older than Cosette and Eponine at the time, and his father had been absolutely furious with him for making his mother worry so. Valjean flinched as he recalled the sturdy switch his father had used on him that evening. But he also recalled how his father had grasped him firmly by the shoulders once the punishment had been meted out, and the words he had said to him: _It would kill me if I lost you, boy. I would rather feel a little pain from punishing you now than the agonizing pain of losing you forever._ Sadly, young Jean would find out all too soon what the pain of losing a loved one forever was like. His father died less than a month later, following a bad fall from a tree he had been pruning.

Though the answer of what to do had been lingering in his mind since entering in the house, Valjean's long-lost memory of his father all but confirmed his heart-wrenching decision. This was not misbehavior that could be handled with a simple scolding. He could overlook sisterly quarrels, forgotten chores, or even backtalk, but he could never allow them to make such a foolish and reckless decision again. He would keep them safe, no matter what the cost.

The sound of little feet behind him interrupted Valjean from his thoughts, and he turned to see his two daughters standing nervously in the doorway of the kitchen. They clearly were in no greater hurry than he was to deal with the situation; they had taken a good deal of time to scrub their faces meticulously and brush their hair until it shone. They looked so sweet and innocent that Valjean had to grip the spoon in his hand tightly to once again prevent himself from going over and smothering them with kisses and forgiveness.

"Supper is almost ready," he said quietly. "Have a seat, both of you."

Eponine and Cosette quickly obeyed while their father dished out portions of the beef stew into two bowls. He set them, along with 2 thick slices of crusty bread, in front of his children. "Eat up."

Though neither of them had much of an appetite, considering what they suspected was waiting for them after supper, both children complied with their father's instructions, not wanting to disobey any more than they already had. After a few bites, however, they noticed that Papa did not serve himself any food; he merely sat himself across from his daughters and watched them eat, a distant, sorrowful look in his eyes. It made both girls feel even more apprehensive to see Papa sitting so still and silent. Cosette, in her agitated state, began to shovel the food into her mouth so quickly that it was a miracle none of it stained her nightgown, while Eponine did nothing more than push the beef and potatoes from one side of her bowl to the other.

Cosette made quick work of her supper, but it was clear to Valjean after a while that Eponine was not going to follow suit. "Eponine, do you not wish to finish your supper?" Valjean asked gently.

"No Papa," Eponine said, shaking her head as she stared at her stew.

"Very well," Valjean said, standing up from the table. "We will leave the dishes for later. Come with me to the sitting room. I think it's time we had a talk."

Like two condemned prisoners being sent to the gallows, Cosette and Eponine reluctantly followed Valjean into the sitting room, where he directed them to sit side by side on a corner of the couch. Pulling up his armchair, he sat down directly in front of the two girls.

"For starters, I want you to tell me exactly what happened today," Valjean instructed, leaning his elbows onto his knees and folding his hands together. "Start with why you decided to leave the house, and end with how you managed to arrive back home safely."

Valjean listened carefully as the two little girls talked, sometimes overlapping with one another in their nervousness. He was slightly relieved by the end of their tale to realize that, besides their close encounter with a street gang, they had never been in any grave danger. However, his relief was dampened by his disappointment that neither child had presented any mitigating factor that might give him cause to lessen their punishment.

"I see," Valjean said, speaking for the first time after his daughters finished their story. "Mon enfants, I understand that you must grow lonely, living here with no other children except each other to play with. I am sorry I cannot fill the passing hours in a more entertaining manner."

"We don't usually mind, Papa," Eponine said honestly. "We just…we thought it would be fun to play with other children for a change."

"I understand that, petit fille," Valjean said gently. "However, that does not change the fact that you deliberately disobeyed me. I do not think I am altogether unfair as a father. I do not give you many rules to abide by. Which is why I am deeply disappointed that you would so blatantly ignore such a simple instruction, particularly one designed to keep you safe."

"We're sorry, Papa!" Cosette cried.

"We are Papa, truly!" Eponine concurred, looking pleadingly at him.

"I believe you, mes chéris," Valjean said reassuringly. "But sometimes, even when we are sorry for our actions, there must be consequences. You could have been hurt, or kidnapped, or worse by going out alone in the streets. I thank God for that boy finding you and bringing you home safely, but I cannot take the risk that you will do something this foolish again. There may not always be a decent boy to bring you home. I am afraid that both of you will have to be punished."

"Why both of us? It was Eponine's idea," Cosette pouted, kicking her feet against the couch.

"Young lady, unless your sister tied you up and dragged you out of this house against your will, that fact is of little consequence," Valjean said sternly. "You and you alone are responsible for your own decisions. I will not have the two of you placing blame on each other, is that understood?"

"Yes, Papa," Cosette whispered, thoroughly abashed by Valjean's severe tone. She didn't really blame Eponine anymore, but she was only eight years old, and was not above trying to worm her way out of punishment. Eponine, for her part, felt so guilty about the whole situation that she wasn't even irritated at Cosette for trying to throw her under the cart.

"Good," Valjean said, the scolding tone in his voice disappearing as he took one of his daughters' hands in each of his own.

"Mes filles, I am sorry, but I have decided that the only way to punish you for this transgression is to give you a spanking," he said quietly, trying to mask the hesitancy in his voice. "I will not be cruel, and once it is over, we will consider the matter forgiven and done with. Do you understand?"

Eponine and Cosette's eyes glossed over with tears, but both of them nodded silently, resigned to their fate. Valjean heaved a deep sigh and moved to sit on the other side of the couch, heart breaking at the task that lay before him.

Later that night, long after the girls had cried themselves to sleep; Valjean still remained in the living room, staring numbly into the fire. He had only moved from the spot on the couch where he had doled out the punishment once, in order to carry Cosette to bed after she had spent nearly a quarter of an hour sobbing on his shoulder. He had shed a few tears himself as his little blonde daughter wept, but it was not Cosette's reaction that kept him awake now, well past his usual time of retirement.

He had dealt with Eponine first, as he had expected Cosette to need more comforting than her sister. Eponine had bitten her lip fearfully as he took her over his knee, but she did not do much more than whimper as he delivered a dozen firm smacks, barely using half of his strength. Indeed, had it not been for the whimpering, Valjean would not have been sure he was even making an impression. Every smack cut his soul so deeply that it was a wonder he was able to put any force behind them at all.

Though it felt like a lifetime, the first spanking was over in less than a minute, and Valjean lifted Eponine up for comfort that was perhaps needed more by father than child. But Eponine, tears glistening in her brown eyes and streaming silently down her face, pushed herself off of his lap with a surprising amount of strength for an eight year old and fled to her room. Valjean got up to follow her, but he stopped at the sight of Cosette, sitting in a chair with her back to him, her little shoulders already shaking with sobs from listening to her sister's punishment. He decided it would be more prudent to finish the whole painful processing of punishing first, and then comfort both of them together.

Cosette's spanking was no different from Eponine's, despite the fact that the former's distress was a great deal more audible than the latter's. Much to Valjean's relief, though Cosette had cried the entire time over his knee, she did not refuse his offer of comfort after the spanking. In fact, he had barely finished lifting her from his knee before she was throwing her arms around his neck, sobbing nonsensical promises about being good and never disobeying again. Valjean held her tightly to his chest, stroking her hair and whispering soft words of reassurance. He started to sit her on his lap, but a distinct yelp from the little girl indicated that he had, in fact, used enough force to make an impression, so he settled for rocking her slowly in his arms. It wasn't until Cosette's tears had died down and she was drifting off to sleep that he remembered he had another child to make things right with. He carried Cosette to her bedroom and laid her carefully in the bed before checking on Eponine. The little girl was lying on her stomach and had the blankets pulled up well past her shoulders, far enough that Valjean could not see if she was asleep or awake. He received his answer when he gently touched a hand to Eponine's shoulder and she jerked away. Feeling what was left of his heart shatter, Valjean patted her shoulder once before dejectedly exiting the bedroom and returning to his place of solitude on the couch.

And in his solitude he remained, well into the night, staring desolately into the fire. He had not eaten since early afternoon, and he was exhausted both from his long trip into town and the experience of disciplining his daughters. But he could not bring himself to go to bed, could not even make himself eat a crust of bread or drink a swallow of wine. All he could do was sit, stare and pray that Eponine would come to forgive him as her sister had.

The flames of the fire crackled so loudly that Valjean did not hear the delicate footsteps approach him from behind.

"Papa?"

Valjean turned his head so fast it was a wonder he didn't break his neck. Standing not a meter away from him was Eponine, her hair and nightgown mussed and tear tracks shining prominently on her cheeks.

"Eponine?" Valjean said, his voice catching in his throat.

"I'm…I'm sorry," Eponine whispered, lowering her head as more tears threatened to escape her eyes.

"Oh ma petite Eponine," Valjean breathed, holding out his arms. That was all the invitation Eponine needed; she practically leapt into his embrace, allowing her father to lift her from the floor and hold her close.

"Please don't be angry with me, Papa," Eponine cried, her voice muffled against his chest. "I didn't mean to disobey you."

"No no, ma chere," Valjean said soothingly, stroking her hair and rocking her back and forth. "I told you, once your punishment was over, you were forgiven. I am no longer angry, petit; you have no need to worry." Eponine held on tighter to his neck at this reassurance, and he continued to calm her tears with gentle words and tender touches.

"Eponine, ma fille précieuse," he said finally, adjusting the tiny girl so he could look into her eyes. "Do you understand why I spanked you?"

"Because I was naughty," Eponine whispered, reaching her fist up to her face to scrub the tears away.

"No," Valjean said, smoothing his hand over her forehead. "Because I could have lost you today. And I would rather feel a little pain from punishing you now than feel the agonizing pain of losing you forever."

And just as Valjean had taken his father's words to heart nearly 40 years ago, Eponine seemed to understand exactly what her father meant. She leaned her head back against his shoulder, and father and daughter sat together, eventually drifting off to sleep in front of the warm fire.

**I tried to make that as painless as possible for the characters and my readers, so I'm hoping everyone liked it. Coming up next: more angst! Just kidding; actually it's Christmastime again! I think this little family has been through enough over the past few chapters; now it's time for some tree trimming and carols and a visit from Père Noël, who if I'm not mistaken will utterly spoil Cosette and Eponine to the point of ridiculousness. I don't know when I'm going to post the next chapter (REPEAT: I DON'T KNOW when I'm going to post the next chapter), but I've got to say, another round of reviews like that last batch, and you will be getting your update sooner rather than later. Thanks for reading!**


	10. Chapter 10

**My apologies; I know I said a bunch of reviews would make me update faster, but it's been a long week. I have the final draft of an article for law review due a week from today, I've been trying to update all three of my stories at the same time, and I did some research to try and make this Christmas chapter as historically accurate as possible. I was really bummed when I found out that the first Christmas tree didn't appear in France until 1840, but I was ironically amused when I discovered that it was the King's daughter-in-law who introduced it (see Enjolras, they aren't **_**all **_**bad). Thanks for all the great comments you guys left me on the last chapter! I know it wasn't everyone's thing, but don't worry, I don't think Eponine or Cosette will be getting in that much trouble again (at least, not until certain boys enter their lives and convince them to perform all kinds of deceitful acts). I hope you guys like this more light-hearted chapter after all the angst! Enjoy!**

_December 15, 1824_

"I'm finished, Papa!" Cosette chirped, getting up from her cushion on the floor and running over to Valjean, who was looking over the past year's receipts while sitting on the couch.

Valjean took the paper, which was covered with several lengthy multiplication problems, and read over it quickly. "Very good, ma petit!" he praised, drawing her to his knee and giving her a kiss on the cheek. "I do not see a single mistake. You are getting very good with numbers." Cosette beamed with pride and returned her father's kiss.

"May I go play with Catharine now, Papa?" she asked.

"Of course, petit," Valjean said with a smile. Cosette smiled happily back at him and skipped off to her bedroom, no doubt planning some adventure for Catharine to get herself into.

"Eponine, ma chere?" Valjean asked, looking over at his other daughter. "How are you coming along with your work?"

Eponine sighed angrily and threw her pencil down. "I can't do it, Papa!" she complained. "I can never make the numbers turn out the way they're supposed to. I'm not smart enough."

"Now Eponine, we will have none of that talk," Valjean said firmly. "Come over here. Bring your paper with you."

Eponine reluctantly got to her feet and trudged over to the couch. She knew Papa was likely to scold her; he didn't like it when she or Cosette talked badly about themselves.

But Valjean could see the frustration in his child's eyes, and instead of rebuking her, he lifted her onto his knee.

"Now, what seems to be the trouble, ma petit?" he asked gently, holding Eponine close with one arm and taking her paper in his free hand.

"I don't know, Papa," Eponine answered, her shoulders slumping. "The numbers just don't make any sense. It's not like doing regular sums."

"Let's take a look here, shall we?" Valjean said, giving her a tender pat on the back. "Ah, I see the problem, petit. You are adding the numbers you carry over before you finish multiplying. That is something we can easily fix."

"But it's _not _easy, Papa," Eponine protested. "Not for me. Why is it so easy for Cosette?"

"Because different things come more easily to different people," Valjean said patiently. "Eponine, you do not need to feel badly if your sister catches onto something more quickly than you do. There are many things that you are talented at, and you will learn arithmetic in your own time. Just as Cosette will learn to do other things in her own time."

Eponine's eyes opened wide. "Am I as bad at arithmetic as Cosette is at cooking?" she asked, sounding utterly horrified at the prospect.

Valjean had to bite his cheek to keep from laughing heartily. He wasn't sure anyone could be as bad at anything as Cosette was at cooking. Her most recent foray in the kitchen involved forgetting to put baking soda into a cake. It had turned out so flat and burnt that they had to throw out the pan.

"Neither you nor your sister are bad at anything," Valjean said finally. "You are just so good at some things that your other talents have not yet had room to grow. But they will in time."

"Now," he said, placing the offending paper back on the table in front of him. "How about tomorrow we skip the arithmetic lesson? I think there are better ways to fill our time."

"Like what, Papa?" Eponine asked, her face brightening at the thought of no arithmetic.

"Well, Christmastime is almost upon us," Valjean said with a twinkle in his eye. "Perhaps you and your sister should write your letters to Père Noël. He will no doubt be wondering what you want for Christmas."

"Père Noël?" Cosette asked, dragging Catharine into the room behind her and looking skeptical. "But Papa, Père Noël is not going to come see us this year."

"Why ever would you think that, Cosette?" Valjean asked, his eyebrows drawing together in concern.

"We haven't been good," she answered simply, crawling up onto the couch next to her father and sister. "Père Noël only comes to visit the good children."

Valjean found himself stifling a laugh for the second time in minutes at his child's proclamation. "What in Heaven's name are you going on about, ma enfant? You have been good as gold, both of you."

"No we haven't, Papa," Eponine argued. "We've been naughty lots of times. We left the house to play in the streets when you told us not to. And back at the convent, I got in a fight with Louise."

"And we fought this past summer over who got to plant the daisies in the garden," Cosette reminded him. "We got mud all over each other."

"And I never get out of bed when you tell me to," Eponine said ashamedly.

"And I've ruined four pans this year," Cosette said mournfully, propping her chin up with her fist.

"If anyone comes to visit us, it will be Père Fouettard," Eponine shuddered nervously.

The idea of Père Noël's evil brother coming to visit his little angels and give them a spanking finally caused Valjean to laugh out loud. He lifted Cosette onto his other knee and cuddled both of his daughters close. "Mes petites, those are all minor sins at most," he said comfortingly. "Some of them you have already been punished for, and the others required no punishment. Though it would be nice if you would get out of bed when you're told," he said teasingly, giving Eponine's nose a tap with his finger, eliciting a giggle from the little girl and causing her to blush.

"I believe very strongly that Père Noël will come visit you Christmas Eve night, and I am quite certain that you will not be getting a visit from Père Fouettard," Valjean continued. "So, tomorrow you will both write letters to him, and soon we will go into town for some Christmas shopping. We shall have a wonderful feast after Mass on Christmas Eve."

"Can we have a Bûche de Noël?" Cosette asked excitedly. She had never tasted the traditional dessert, but she had read about it in her storybooks.

"We may have whatever you like, ma petite Cosette," Valjean promised. "Do not forget, Christmas Eve also marks the one year anniversary of the day you came to live with me."

"Did you hear that, Catharine?" Cosette asked her doll conversationally. "You've been with me and 'Ponine and Papa for a whole year."

"Come on, Cosette," Eponine said, jumping off of Valjean's lap. "Let's go get Marguerite and have a celebration!" Cosette eagerly got up to follow her sister, and Valjean found himself laughing once more at their carefree innocence.

The next day, the girls painstakingly wrote letters to Père Noël as they sat by the fire. Valjean made sure to read them very carefully and memorize all their little Christmas wishes before depositing them in the flames. He solemnly informed his daughters that this was the quickest way to reach Père Noël; the words would go up in the smoke and travel all the way to his home in the north. The following afternoon, Valjean left the house for a short while, telling his daughters that he had an important errand to run in town and sternly reminding them not to leave the house under any circumstances. He returned several hours later, laden down with parcels which he discreetly hid in the woodshed behind the house. He made a second trip the day before Christmas Eve, this time with the girls in tow, to arrange for a cab to take them to Mass and to purchase everything they would need for their late night feast.

_Christmas Eve, 1824_

"Oh Papa, look!" Eponine cried, as the little family left the cathedral after Mass. "It's starting to snow!"

Cosette clapped her hands and jumped up and down. "Père Noël must have gotten our letters! We both wished for snow for Christmas!"

"Indeed, mes petites," Valjean chuckled, sending up a silent prayer thanking for the sudden snowfall. That had been the one wish of his daughters' he had not been able to fill on his own, and he was grateful to the good Lord for small favors. "That means we must hurry to get home, before the roads get too slippery for the cab. Come, up you go."

Cosette and Eponine spent the entire ride home with their little faces pressed to the windows, watching the snow swirl outside. Valjean was afraid he was going to have to forcibly drag them in the house to keep them from playing in the snow, but fortunately, the second they arrived at their home, both children sprang from the carriage and ran into the house, eager for the upcoming feast.

Valjean had purchased a cornucopia of delectable Christmas dishes, including the coveted Bûche de Noël. His family had never been rich enough for fine food as a child, but during his time as Mayor, he had been invited to several Christmas parties, and he knew exactly what foods his daughters would like best. While he laid out the table with pat de foie gras, oysters, smoked salmon, winter melon, pears, and a fine goose that had been roasted the previous day, Cosette and Eponine set up the little crèche Valjean had bought for them.

The girls had seen the traditional little nativity scenes before in the shop windows of Montfermeil, but they could not have been more excited to have their own this Christmas. All the little clay shepherds and Magi were painted in vibrant colors, and the Virgin Mary had a tiny piece of blue silk flowing from her head. The two children could have stared at the crèche all through the night, but they could not resist the tantalizing smells coming from the kitchen. Valjean was pleased that they ate heartily from every dish he placed in front of them, for he knew that the fuller their stomachs were, the faster their eyes would close once they were in bed.

After eating enough food to fill the bellies of ten little girls, Cosette and Eponine went to leave their shoes by the fire, finally confident in their Papa's promise that the mystical old man would pay them a visit. They generously left a glass of wine for Père Noël and a carrot for his donkey on the mantle, and they also helped Valjean light two candles in the window, to light the way for the Virgin Mary. Valjean lifted them both up to carry them to bed, and both of their heads collapsed upon his shoulders before he even laid them down. Though it was late at night, Valjean stood in the doorway of his children's bedroom for more than an hour, just staring at their beautiful faces. He could not believe it had been a year since he had found them, and they had found him. He would have stared all night and been perfectly content, but he had to make sure that all of his little girls' Christmas wishes came true, so he eventually slipped silently out to the woodshed to retrieve their gifts.

There was no carol that could have sounded more beautiful to Valjean than the delighted cries of his daughters that woke him on Christmas morn. He rose from his bed, stopping only to put on his dressing gown, and he entered the living room.

"Joyeux Noël, mes filles!" he said jovially. "I see Père Noël has indeed paid you a visit!"

"Joyeux Noël, Papa!" the girls cried in unison. "Look at what we got, Papa!" Eponine added.

Valjean knew exactly what gifts they had received, of course, but he obligingly listened with rapt attention as his daughters proudly displayed their bounty. Both girls had awakened to find one shoe apiece overflowing with candy of all shapes, sizes and colors. There were creamy squares of nougat, rich chocolate bon bons, sticky sugared almonds, tiny black licorice drops, and a rainbow of hard candy molded to look like ribbons. The other shoes had been filled with a variety of nuts, and topped off with a large, perfectly round orange. And buried in with the nuts, much to the awe of Eponine and Cosette, were two shiny gold Louis coins.

"My my," Valjean said, wrapping an arm around each daughter's waist and holding them close. "Père Noël has been extremely generous. I suppose, then, that there is no need for me to give you my gifts?"

"Papa!" both children exclaimed indignantly. Valjean laughed and reached under the couch, pulling out two identical large parcels. The girls ripped the paper open unceremoniously and gasped with joy when they saw the contents. Each of them had received a new plaid woolen dress with a lace collar. Eponine's was a red and gold pattern, to match the shawl she had been given the previous year, while Cosette's was dark green and grey. But best of all, each package contained a miniature version of the dress each girl had been given, the perfect size for Marguerite and Catharine.

"Thank you, Papa!" the girls cried, leaping onto their father's lap and smothering him with kisses.

"You are most welcome, mes enfants," Valjean said warmly, returning the kisses with equal exuberance.

"Cosette!" Eponine cried suddenly. "We almost forgot!"

"Forgot what, petit?" Valjean asked curiously. The children did not answer, but jumped down from his lap and hurried from the room. They entered again momentarily, the excited looks on their faces replaced by timid smiles and their hands behind their backs.

"We have gifts for you too, Papa," Cosette said shyly.

"We made them ourselves," Eponine added, as both children presented him with small parcels.

Valjean felt his breath catch in his throat as he ran his hand over the brown paper, the string tied together in messy bows that had probably taken the girls several minutes to complete. He could not remember the last time he had received a Christmas gift, and he certainly hadn't expected to receive any from his daughters. He hadn't indicated to them that he desired anything, and he had never let them out of his sight to buy anything in town.

"Go on, Papa," Cosette urged, her shyness replaced by anxiousness. "Open them."

Not wanting either child to feel left out, Valjean managed to untie each bow with one hand and open them at the same time. The paper fell away and Valjean stared silently at the two small gifts. Cosette's parcel had contained a new white handkerchief, painstakingly embroidered with the word "Papa" in the corner. Eponine's gift was a blue woolen scarf; Valjean vaguely remembered her asking him a few months ago what his favorite color was, but he had forgotten about it since.

"Do you like them, Papa?" Eponine asked nervously. Neither she nor her sister was very advanced at sewing or knitting. They got along well for their age, but maybe Papa would have preferred something store-bought.

Valjean raised his eyes from his gifts, and both girls were a little taken aback to see that they were filled with tears.

"I have never received nicer presents, mes filles précieuses," he managed to choke out. "I shall treasure them forever."

Eponine and Cosette beamed, and they needed no second invitation when Valjean held out his arms once more. Both children climbed upon their father's knees and allowed him to kiss the crowns of their heads.

"Joyeux Noël, mes anges doux," Valjean said softly. As he cradled his daughters in his arms, he realized that he had misspoken previously. The handkerchief and the scarf were the _second _best Christmas presents he had ever received. The first, and most important, were sitting upon his lap and smiling up at him.

**You guys might all want to take a trip to the dentist-that was some major cavity inducing fluff I just wrote. I got all of the Christmas traditions (including Père Fouettard) from a variety of internet sources, so just pretend like I knew what I was talking about :) Coming up next: the snow can be wonderful, as Valjean has already proven, but a bitter winter can also bring sickness, and no one is immune. Please leave me some more of your fabulous reviews! Thanks for reading!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hey guys! I'm so sorry for the delay! I had to finish that 50 some page paper I told you about (ended up being 58 total, yuck), then I went to visit my grandparents over spring break, where I caught a bad cold. I finally started writing this chapter a couple of nights ago, and I just couldn't get it to where I wanted it to be, hence the even longer delay. But you can all thank Fanpire101 for helping me out of the rut so I could get this posted tonight :) A couple of announcements: there will be two more chapters after this, and then you will all get what you've been waiting for. Yes, the girls will finally be old enough that we can begin the love stories, so hopefully I will give you all your fixes of Enjonine and Mosette. Also, I have another AU fic for Les Mis in the works. Short description: WWII fic where all the Les Amis are evacuees from London who come to live with Valjean, who has just hired a new housekeeper named Fantine to help him take care of all these extra kids. You guys interested? You better be, because I've got the whole thing outlined and I'm ready to write. But for now, enjoy this chapter!**

_February 18, 1825_

"…And they all lived happily ever after," Valjean finished, closing the book as he said the last words printed on the page. "And now, mes filles endormies, it is time for bed," he said to the two little girls perched on his lap.

"Yes Papa," Eponine replied with a yawn, laying her head on his shoulder. As difficult as she was to wake in the mornings, Eponine never made a fuss when it was time for bed. She loved nothing more than to snuggle under the covers with Marguerite tucked under her arm and her sister curled up to her side. Cosette, however, was a different story. She was always up with the sun, singing like a little lark as she set the table for breakfast, but she hated to go to bed. More than once Valjean had found cause to scold her for getting up for multiple drinks of water or begging one too many times for another story.

But to Valjean's surprise, Cosette echoed her sister with a sleepy "Yes Papa," and rubbed her eyes as she leaned back against his chest. Valjean furrowed his eyebrows and tilted her face up to look at him.

"Who are you and what have you done with ma petite Cosette?" he asked with mock concern. "She never agrees to go to bed without at least asking to hear a second story."

"I'm Cosette, Papa," the little girl replied with a small giggle. "But I'm tired tonight, and I feel sore."

"That does not surprise me at all," Valjean said, setting the book down on the table and rising to his feet, one daughter balanced on each hip. Recently, Cosette and Eponine had read a story about skipping rope in one of their schoolbooks, and they had been anxious to try it out. They had run into a problem when they realized that skipping rope usually required three little girls; two to turn and one to jump. Valjean was more than willing to play with them, but his tall stature and male hands were not conducive to skipping rope. Fortunately, Eponine was proving to be quite innovative, and she had suggested that they tie one end of the rope to the gate bars. This had worked quite nicely, and the girls had spent every afternoon for a week jumping until their hair ribbons came undone and they were out of breath.

"Perhaps you should stay indoors tomorrow," Valjean continued as he carried his daughters down the hall. "You have gotten more than enough exercise for one week."

"Oh no, Papa!" Eponine begged, lifting her head from his shoulder. "We love to skip rope!"

"Please Papa, don't make us stay inside," Cosette pleaded.

"Very well," Valjean said indulgently, setting them both down on their bed. "So long as you get a good night's sleep." Both girls nodded hard in agreement, and Valjean sealed the deal with a kiss as he tucked them in for the night.

The girls kept their promise better than Valjean had anticipated. The next morning, both girls proved difficult to wake up, especially Cosette. But despite their tired state, they both eagerly jumped at the chance to go play outside after they had finished their lessons. They played hard for well over an hour, before Valjean looked at the clock and realized that the sky would be growing dark shortly. Setting the lid on the pot of soup boiling over the stove, Valjean wiped his hands on a rag and headed for the front door. Supper would not be ready for another hour at least, but the days were still cold, and he did not want the girls catching a chill. He opened the front door and was greeted by the sight of Cosette swinging the rope in large circles while Eponine jumped and giggled every time she tripped.

"Cosette! Eponine!" Valjean called from the doorway. "It is time to come inside, mes filles. You'll catch your death in this cold weather."

"We aren't at all cold, Papa!" Eponine called, her voice coming out in short breaths as she jumped continuously over the rope.

"And it's hardly begun to get dark!" Cosette echoed, swinging the rope more vigorously with each turn.

Valjean shook his head. While both of his girls were just as sweet and charming as ever, they had begun to get more defiant as of late, and they were not yet nine years old. He shuddered to think what would happen once they became teenagers. Shortly before his arrest, his eldest niece Afrodille had been approaching puberty, and he swore she gave his sister Jeanne grey hair. And she had only been one child.

"Just because you are warm from jumping, petits, does not mean the cold is not affecting you," Valjean said firmly. He had been standing in the doorway for less than a minute, and he was already starting to shiver without a coat. "Now come inside."

"But Papa…" the girls began to whine in unison.

Valjean raised a stern eyebrow at them, cutting off their tantrum before it could begin. "Come inside immediately or you will not be allowed out to play for the rest of the week," he warned. Cosette dropped the rope like it was a hot potato at the threat, and she and Eponine both trudged towards the doorway, heads hanging abashedly.

Valjean could not stay mad at them for more than a brief second, and when they crossed the threshold he greeted them with a smile and placed a hand on each of their cheeks, both of which were flushed with exertion.

"You say you are not cold, mes filles, but your cheeks say differently," he said gently, stroking their chilled skin with his fingers. "You both feel like little icicles."

"I guess we are a little cold," Eponine admitted reluctantly, and Cosette nodded her agreement as she shivered slightly.

"Soon I will have some hot soup ready for you, and that will warm you right up," Valjean promised. "In the meantime, why don't you play by the fire in the sitting room with Catharine and Marguerite? They must feel neglected as of late; you've barely spent any time with them since you've started skipping rope."

"Papa's right, 'Ponine," Cosette said seriously. "We haven't been very good Mamas."

"Let's go make it up to them," Eponine said, taking her sister's hand and skipping off down the hallway.

The girls had such an enjoyable time playing quiet games with their dolls that Valjean hated to interrupt them, but he wanted to make sure they had a good square meal after all their exercise. He had prepared a hearty bean soup, which was one of Cosette's favorites, so he was surprised when she took no more than two bites before setting her spoon down.

"Cosette?" Valjean asked, setting down his own spoon in concern. "Is there something wrong with your soup?"

"It tastes funny, Papa," Cosette complained, pressing her hand to her stomach.

"Mine doesn't," Eponine said, shoving a big spoonful into her mouth. "It tastes good, Papa!"

Valjean gave Eponine a brief smile before turning his attentions back to Cosette. "Would you like me to get you some salt, Cosette? Perhaps…"

But Valjean did not get to finish his sentence before Cosette abruptly turned green and spewed the two bites of soup, plus the entirety of her lunch and breakfast, all over the table. Eponine jumped back in disgust, and Valjean leapt to his feet and ran to his little girl.

"I'm sorry, Papa," Cosette whimpered, her eyes filling with tears. Valjean noticed that they were already quite red, something he had failed to notice before.

"Sh, it's alright petit," Valjean said gently, picking up a napkin and wiping her face with it. "I can see you do not feel well; it's not your fault." He lifted Cosette in his arms and felt her forehead with his wrist, noting with concern that it felt awfully warm. "I think we may need to fetch the doctor to see you, ma Cherie," he said worriedly. "Let's get you into your nightgown and into bed, and I will send for him."

Cosette did not respond to this pronouncement, but continued to cry, her little body shaking with a combination of chills and sobs. Valjean rubbed her back as he carried her into the bedroom and got her prepared for bed.

"Eponine," Valjean said softly, beckoning his healthy child over to him as he came back into the foyer. "I will be back with the doctor as quickly as I can. I will need you to take care of your sister while I am gone. Dab her forehead with a cool rag, and try to get her to drink some water. Can you do that, petit?"

"Yes, Papa," Eponine nodded urgently, her earlier disgust gone and replaced with worry. She was feeling very concerned upon hearing that Papa was going for a doctor. Eponine had never seen a doctor before; every time she or Cosette fell ill while staying with the Thenardiers, they had not been given any treatment. But she knew from books that doctors often came when people were seriously ill.

"Good girl," Valjean said, giving her a kiss on the head and grabbing his overcoat as he left the house.

"Papa," Cosette croaked, another tear squeezing out of her eyes as she heard her father slam the door.

"Sh, it's alright, Cosette," Eponine assured her, hurrying to do Papa's bidding as she grabbed a rag from the bedside table. "Papa will be back soon. I'm going to take care of you." With that promise, Eponine wet the rag and began to wash her sister's face gently.

Two hours later, Valjean exited Cosette's bedroom and closed the door behind him. Sighing deeply, he closed his eyes and fell back heavily against the wall, his mind reeling from the evening's events. It had not taken the doctor long to figure out that Cosette was suffering from influenza. How she had caught it, the doctor had no idea, but he warned Valjean that Eponine might come down with the disease as well, seeing as the girls shared just about everything. But in the meantime, his primary concern was Cosette. The little girl's fever had risen in the short time he had been there, and the doctor feared that if it continued to rise, the influenza might develop into pneumonia. With the help of a nurse he had sent for, the doctor was prepared to spend the rest of the evening working to break Cosette's fever and soothe her cough, but he warned Valjean that it was probably going to be a long night. Being told there was nothing he could do but wait, Valjean had left the room, feeling utterly helpless.

"Papa?" a little voice whispered. Valjean opened his eyes and saw Eponine hovering in the doorway of the sitting room, her little face pinched with worry and streaked with tears. "Is Cosette going to die?" she whimpered.

"Oh ma petite Eponine," Valjean breathed, crossing the foyer in two great strides and swooping her up in his arms. "Of course not, ma Cherie. Doctor Beaumont is a good doctor. He will make Cosette well again."

Despite the soothing words he said to Eponine, Valjean could not convince himself entirely that they were true. With a pang in his chest, he remembered what he had said only hours ago when his daughters would not come in from playing. _You'll catch your death_, he had said. He hadn't been serious; it was just a phrase parents used to emphasize their instructions. But seeing Cosette lying on the bed, weak with fever, looking far too similar to Fantine during her last days, Valjean wondered if his words had tempted fate to come take his little girl from him.

"I don't want Cosette to die, Papa!" Eponine cried as the pair sat down on the couch in the sitting room. "She's my sister! I don't want her to go to Heaven without me!"

"Hush now, ma petite Eponine," Valjean soothed, stroking her hair with his hand. "Neither you nor Cosette are going to go to Heaven for a very long time, I promise. I would not let either of you go before me. You have my word." As he spoke, he prayed furiously that God would not make a liar out of him by taking his child away prematurely. He did not know how he would go on if he lost either one of his petits anges.

Eponine sniffed and leaned her head against his chest. "Can I go see her and tell her not to leave for Heaven without me?" she asked softly.

"No, Eponine," Valjean said gently. "It might make you sick to be near Cosette right now. You may see her soon, once her fever breaks."

"But where will I sleep tonight?" Eponine wanted to know.

"You may sleep here on the couch, or in my bed with me," Valjean offered.

"With you, Papa," Eponine said immediately. Valjean smiled down at his little girl. He could not protect Cosette from the vile disease coursing through her body, but at least he could hold Eponine close tonight and protect her from any outside forces. Feeling slight comfort at that thought, he gave Eponine a kiss on the cheek and stood up once more. All he could do now was focus on preparing one child for bed and try to forget that his other child was sick and helpless in the next room.

Valjean did not sleep a wink, though Eponine slept soundly cradled in her father's arms. Every half hour or so, Valjean felt her forehead to see if she was coming down with a fever, but she appeared to be perfectly healthy come morning. Valjean was checking her temperature for approximately the seventeenth time when he heard the back bedroom door creak open. Laying Eponine down gently and jumping to his feet, he hurried into the foyer and almost slammed into the doctor.

"Doctor Beaumont?" Valjean asked anxiously. "How is my child?"

The good doctor smiled tiredly at the concerned parent. "She is weak and tired, but her fever broke a short while ago," he said, causing Valjean to heave a deep sigh of relief. "She is sleeping now. I have left some laudanum for you to give her every six hours if her cough continues, and I will be back to check on her later this afternoon. As long as you make sure she drinks plenty of fluids and does not exert herself, she should be perfectly well by the end of the week. You and your other daughter may go in whenever you wish."

"Thank you, Doctor," Valjean said, gratefully clasping the younger man's hand in his own. The doctor gave him a warm smile and took his leave, the nurse following close behind him.

"Papa?" Eponine asked, trotting out of the bedroom and rubbing her eyes sleepily. "May we see Cosette now?"

Valjean smiled and picked his daughter up. "Yes, Eponine," he said happily. "We may see Cosette now." The pair headed back to the bedroom and quietly approached the bed. Cosette lay against a pile of pillows, her hair sweaty from the fever and her cheeks pale, but with a peaceful look on her face as she slept soundly.

Valjean was about to motion to Eponine to let her sister sleep, but Eponine had been worried, and she needed to be reassured that Cosette was indeed alright. "Cosette!" she cried, causing the little blonde girl's eyes to pop open in surprise. "Are you feeling better?"

Before Valjean could chastise Eponine for waking her sister, Cosette smiled tiredly at both of them and nodded. "I feel better, 'Ponine," she said softly. "The lady took care of me."

"Yes, Cosette," Valjean said, setting Eponine down and coming to kneel beside his daughter's bed. "The nurse took very good care of you. Your fever is broken, and the doctor says you will be well within a week."

Cosette shook her head. "Not that lady, Papa. The pretty lady that lives in the castle on the cloud," she explained. "She held me in her arms and sang me a lullaby, and I felt better. She had such a pretty smile, and beautiful brown hair like 'Ponine's. She knew my name, and she told me she loved me very much, and then I woke up and you were here."

Valjean stared at his daughter for a moment before leaning over to give her a gentle kiss on her forehead. As he pressed his lips to her clammy skin, he closed his eyes and sent up a silent prayer. _Thank you, Fantine. Thank you for caring for our daughter when I could not._

_mes filles endormies-my sleepy girls_

**I feel like this was one of my weaker chapters, so I hope you guys didn't hate it too much! I may have fudged some medical details, but hey, I'm no Joly. Coming up next: sister fight! It had to happen sooner or later, right? But don't worry, Valjean will fix everything before the chapter is over. Please review and let me know I didn't lose you guys over my mini-hiatus!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hey guys! I've managed to get this done 20 minutes before my next class, so you're in luck! I got a lot of anonymous reviews with questions for my last chapter, so here are some answers. I do have a tumblr, but I have no idea how to use it…I am extremely technologically challenged, and I just now figured out how to add an avatar onto my profile. However, if anyone out there wants to create photo sets for this story, I have no objection. Just let me know! The cast is based on the 2012 movie cast, because I think they were perfect in every way :) I think that's all for now…if anyone else has more questions, just leave them in your oh so fabulous reviews! Enjoy!**

_September 28, 1825_

The sun shone brightly through the sitting room window and danced across the page of long division problems lying in front of Cosette. The little blonde sighed and gazed longingly out the window. It seemed like it had been ages since she had been allowed to play outside. Following her nasty bout of influenza last winter, Valjean had been extremely protective of both of his daughters, hardly letting them outside if it was cold enough for them to require a coat. And then, if it was too warm for a coat, he would often insist on them wearing one anyway, just in case. Cosette thought she would get a reprieve in the summer months, but the city of Paris had been plagued by rainstorms from May to August, and Valjean refused to let his daughters play in the damp air. He did still take the girls for walks into town on nicer days, but to a young girl Cosette's age, it seemed like a lifetime between each of those precious excursions.

Cosette had been excited this morning to see that, although the leaves were starting to change colors, the sun was shining brightly and the air was warm. Valjean had promised the girls over breakfast that they could play outside in the afternoon, after their lessons were completed of course. Cosette usually enjoyed having school with Papa. Papa was very smart and he taught his daughters all sorts of interesting things. But today, there was nothing more appealing to the little girl than running free in the sunshine. Cosette had begged Papa after every lesson to allow her to go outside, but he had reminded her each time to be patient. Sighing again, she began to scribble answers all over her paper, not really thinking about what she was doing. The sooner she finished, the sooner she could go out into the yard.

"I'm finished, Papa!" Cosette announced, scrawling her last answer and jumping to her feet.

Valjean lifted his eyes from his book in surprise. "Already, Cosette?" he asked. The child was adept with numbers, but she had never finished this quickly. "Very well, bring me your paper."

Cosette hurried over and thrust the paper toward her father, who proceeded to glance over it. Valjean did not even make it through the first six problems before he drew his eyebrows together and looked up at his little girl.

"Cosette," he said firmly. "You have not gotten a single problem correct that I can see thus far. That is unlike you. Are you sure you put your best efforts into completing the assignment?"

Cosette shifted uncomfortably under Valjean's steady gaze. "Yes, Papa," she said slowly, staring at the floor.

"Cosette," Valjean said sternly. "You finished the assignment in ten minutes. It should have taken you at least twenty, and more if you had checked your work. Now tell me the truth. Did you do your best on this assignment?"

Cosette's shoulders slumped, knowing she had been caught in a lie. "I'm sorry, Papa," she admitted, looking up at him beneath her long lashes. "I just wanted to finish so I could go play outside."

Valjean's gaze softened a little as he studied his remorseful daughter. He knew that both girls had been frustrated with the inclement weather over the past several months, and it was a beautiful day outside. Still, Valjean had always been very clear with his daughters that their schoolwork came first, and playtime came later. He had seen firsthand what a lack of education had done to their mother, and he certainly was not going to let his little girls go down the same path. On top of that, this was not the first sign of rebellion he had seen from his daughters over the past several months. They had not blatantly disobeyed him since the time they had snuck away from the house, but he had recently found himself having to ask them repeatedly to do something, and having to break up small quarrels before they began. Much as it pained him, Valjean knew he could not let Cosette's behavior go undisciplined. In addition to not doing her assignment properly, she had tried to lie to him about it, and that was unacceptable.

"Cosette, I've told you many times before that you must complete you work in a satisfactory manner before running off to play," Valjean lectured. "Writing down random answers and not even attempting to solve the problems is hardly satisfactory. Furthermore, you were not honest with me when I asked you if you had tried your best. You know better than to be deceitful, do you not?"

"Yes, Papa," Cosette replied softly, her face turning red as she listened to her father's scolding. "I'm sorry."

"Now, if you had taken your time and done your best work on your arithmetic, you could be playing outside this afternoon," Valjean continued. "However, since you chose to ignore your work, you will have to redo the assignment tomorrow before you can play outside. And you will spend the remainder of today in the house."

"But Papa!" Cosette cried, tears springing to her eyes. "You promised I could play outside today!"

"I promised you that you could play outside once you completed your schoolwork," Valjean reminded her calmly. "You know that I expected you to do your work properly. I am sorry, petit, but you may not play outside until tomorrow, and only if you are attentive during your lessons."

"That's not fair!" Cosette shouted, stomping her foot and running off toward her room. Valjean sighed and rubbed his hand tiredly through his curls as he watched her run off. He hadn't looked in a mirror recently, but he was fairly certain that his daughters were giving him new gray hairs every day. He knew he should probably follow Cosette and scold her again for throwing a tantrum, but he wasn't sure that would do any good. Though he still believed he had made the right decision, he did feel badly for the child. She had been looking forward to playing in the sunshine, and her angry reaction had probably stemmed more from disappointment than rebelliousness. A gentle talk would probably do more good than a scolding.

Deciding to give his feisty little blond daughter a chance to calm down before going to talk to her, Valjean turned his attentions to his other child, who was obliviously immersed in her work. During the whole exchange between Valjean and Cosette, Eponine had remained in her position on the floor, her tongue poking out of her mouth as she painstakingly worked her way through the problems. Eponine still struggled with arithmetic, but she had been trying very hard lately to catch on. During some of the stormy days of the summer, she had even asked Valjean to give her some extra problems so she could practice. Valjean had not doubted her determination to master the subject before, but he was quite sure of it now. Eponine hadn't moved a muscle in the past quarter of an hour, even when her sister was stomping her foot and throwing a fit.

Fifteen more minutes went by before Eponine placed her pencil down with a deep breath. "I think I'm finished, Papa," she said, getting up and handing him her paper. Valjean accepted the sheet from her and read it over while Eponine watched him nervously. As his eyes reached the bottom of the page, his face broke into a wide smile as he turned to look at his daughter.

"Ma petite Eponine, you did it!" he exclaimed, swooping her up onto his knee. "There is not a single mistake! I am so proud of you, ma Cherie!"

"Really?" Eponine cried excitedly, grinning even more widely than her father. "I really did it, Papa?"

"Yes you did, ma ange!" Valjean said warmly, giving her a hearty kiss on the cheek. "I knew you could do it! You have worked so hard these past few months, ma petit. The next time we are in town, I will buy you a special treat as a reward." Eponine giggled excitedly and allowed Valjean to continue praising her. Both father and daughter were so elated that they did not see the small figure stalking away from the doorway.

Cosette walked back into her bedroom and shut the door with a huff. She had gone to apologize to Papa for her tantrum and to ask if she could try the assignment again that afternoon in exchange for going outside, and what did she find? Papa covering Eponine with kisses and promising to buy her treats for being so smart. He used to praise Cosette like that, every time she turned in a perfect essay or a flawless sheet of arithmetic problems. But now, the one time she didn't do her best, he scolded and punished her. It wasn't fair, none of it. Cosette plopped down on her bed in frustration, feeling angry at her Papa, her sister, and the world in general.

"Papa, may Cosette and I go outside and play now?" Eponine asked Valjean in the sitting room. Valjean smiled sadly at her; she had clearly been so immersed in her work that she hadn't heard Valjean discipline her sister.

"I am sorry, petit," he said, stroking her brown hair. "Cosette may not go outside until tomorrow. But you may go out if you wish. Would you like me to come with you?"

"That's alright, Papa," Eponine said cheerfully. "I'll wait until Cosette can come with me. She would be sad if I went without her."

Valjean smiled and gave her another kiss on the forehead. "You are a good sister, Eponine," he said kindly. "Why don't you run along and offer to play dolls with Cosette? Perhaps that will cheer her up."

"Alright, Papa," Eponine replied, returning his kiss and climbing off his lap. Valjean smiled as he watched the little girl skip down the hall, grateful that he had one child who was in a good mood.

"Cosette, guess what?" Eponine said excitedly, bursting into the bedroom. "I got all my division problems right for the first time!"

"I heard," Cosette mumbled, sulking as she kicked her feet against the bedframe. Eponine was too excited to notice her sister's less than enthusiastic reaction, and she continued to chatter as she made her way to windowsill, where Marguerite sat waiting for her.

"Come on, Cosette," she said, bouncing over to stand in front of her sister, doll in hand. "Let's play with Marguerite and Catharine."

"I don't want to play dolls," Cosette scowled. "I want to play outside."

"Papa says we can play outside tomorrow," Eponine said with a shrug. The shrug made Cosette bristle with anger; it was like her sister didn't even care about her plight. "Come on, Cosette, play with us. Please?" she said with a mock pout on her face, holding out Marguerite to her sister.

Later, Cosette wouldn't even be able to explain why she did what she did. But at that moment, the injustice of the whole day caused something inside of her to snap. "I said I don't want to play with you!" she shouted, reaching out and shoving Eponine away.

Eponine was completely caught off guard by her sister's reaction, and she fell flat on her bottom from the force of Cosette's shove. On her way down to the floor, she lost her grip on Marguerite. The beautiful porcelain doll hit the ground hard, and her head separated from the rest of her body with a sickening crack.

Both girls stared at the broken doll in absolute horror. For almost two years now, Marguerite and Catharine had been the girls' most prized possessions, and they were always incredible careful with them. They never took the dolls outside if it looked like it was going to rain, and they always held them close during bumpy carriage rides so they would not fall. The dolls were their first gifts from Papa, and each girl loved her doll dearly. And now, in a split second, Cosette had managed to destroy Eponine's precious Marguerite.

"P…Ponine…" Cosette stammered, her eyes filling with tears as she realized what she had done. "I'm sorry…I didn't…"

Eponine's eyes were filling with tears as well, albeit tears of grief and anger as opposed to remorse. Without hearing her sister's stuttered apologies, the devastated little girl jumped to her feet, marched over to the bed, and slapped Cosette as hard as she could across the face.

"You killed Marguerite!" Eponine shrieked, as Cosette clutched her cheek and started to sob from the pain of the blow. In a furious rage, Eponine leapt on the bed and started shaking her sister and pulling at her hair as she continued to scream over the loss of her beloved doll. Cosette kicked back and did some hair pulling of her own, her remorse once again replaced by fury as her sister pummeled her. The two little girls were close to falling off the bed in a tangle of flailing limbs when a pair of strong arms grasped Eponine around the waist and yanked her off of the bed.

"What in Heaven's name is going on in here?!" Valjean shouted, looking at his two disheveled little girls in dismay. The last time he had seen a pair of females fighting in such a fashion had been moments before Fantine was fired from his factory. He wasn't sure what all the fuss was about, but it was clear both girls had developed their mother's tactics for standing up for themselves.

"She slapped me!" Cosette cried, overlapping with Eponine's lament of "She shoved me and killed Marguerite!"

All Valjean caught from their accusations was the word "Marguerite". As he looked down at the floor, he saw the damaged doll, and he realized why Eponine was sobbing in his arms.

"Oh Eponine," he sighed, kneeling down on the floor with his little girl and examining the doll. "Petit, stop crying. I can fix Marguerite."

Eponine immediately stopped her wails and looked at Valjean with her reddened eyes. "You…you can?"

"Of course," Valjean said reassuringly. "Look, it was a clean break. I have some glue left over from when I fixed the teapot last week. She will be good as new, I promise."

Eponine tenderly lifted Marguerite's broken body in her arms and cradled her close. Valjean patted her head once, then set her on her feet and stood up.

"Now, how exactly did Marguerite get broken?" he asked, his features becoming stern again as he looked back and forth between his daughters. Eponine pointed an accusing finger at Cosette. "It was her fault, Papa!" she pronounced with a glare. "She shoved me for no reason and made me drop Marguerite!"

"And you slapped me!" Cosette protested, holding a hand to her still red cheek.

"Because you broke Marguerite!" Eponine retorted, taking an angry step toward the bed.

"Enough!" Valjean said firmly, grasping Eponine by the shoulder to stop her advancement. "Eponine, you take Marguerite into the sitting room and tend to her. I will be in shortly." Eponine carefully picked up Marguerite's head from the floor and obeyed her Papa, but not without a final glare in Cosette's direction.

Valjean walked over to the washbasin and wet a rag with some cold water. Returning to the bed, he sat down next to Cosette and handed her the rag. "Put this on your cheek," he said quietly. Cosette accepted the rag and pressed it to her face before bursting into tears once more.

All the sternness on Valjean's face melted away at the sound of his little girl's sobs. He wasn't sure why she had shoved her sister in the first place, but something told him it hadn't been out of malice. He lifted Cosette easily with his strong arms and placed her on his lap, cradling her to his chest.

"Sh, there there, ma petit," he whispered, stroking her hair and kissing the top of her head. "Cosette, you're going to make yourself sick if you continue you crying like this. Come now, tell Papa what's wrong."

"It…was…an accident, Papa!" Cosette hiccupped, burying her face in her father's shirt so she wouldn't have to look at him. "I didn't mean…to push…her! I was…upset because you…loved Eponine more…and…"

"Wait just a minute," Valjean said, lifting the little girl up from his chest and looking her straight in the eye. "What do you mean, 'I loved Eponine more'?"

"You…were angry with…me," Cosette whimpered, lowering her head in shame. "And you were proud because….Ponine did her work better…and…"

"Oh, ma petite Cosette," Valjean breathed, lifting her chin with his finger. "Petit, I was never angry with you. I was disappointed, yes, but not angry. And even if I had been angry, I could never love Eponine more than you, any more than I could love you more than Eponine. You are both mes anges doux, and I love you both the same. I am proud of Eponine for working so hard at her arithmetic, but that does not mean I love her more than you."

Cosette sniffed as she looked into her father's eyes. "R…really?" she asked hesitantly.

"Cosette, there are many things you may doubt in your life," Valjean said softly. "But the one thing you must never doubt is my love for you. You are ma petite fille, ma trésor. And no matter how much you may disobey me, I will always love you."

"I love you too, Papa," Cosette whispered, sinking back into his chest and wrapping her arms around him. Valjean kissed her tenderly on top of her head and rocked her for a moment, stroking her back as her breathing became more even.

"Papa?" Cosette asked, breaking the silence as she sat up once more. "Are you going to spank me for pushing Eponine?"

"I probably should," Valjean said gravely, causing Cosette's lip to tremble. "But I am not going to. I think both you and your sister have been punished enough by your own actions. However, we are going into the sitting room now so I can repair Marguerite, and I expect you and Eponine to make up with each other."

Cosette nodded, relieved to hear that she wasn't going to be punished any further, and she allowed Valjean to carry her into the sitting room.

"Eponine, come here," Valjean said, sitting down on the sofa and placing Cosette on his knee. Eponine carefully laid Marguerite's broken body in the rocking chair she had been sitting in and came to climb on Valjean's other knee. "Cosette has something to say to you."

"I'm sorry, Ponine," Cosette said sincerely. "I didn't mean to push you and hurt Marguerite. I was upset and I wasn't thinking. I really am sorry."

Eponine glanced over at her doll, than looked up at Valjean. "Are you _sure _you can fix Marguerite, Papa?" she asked concernedly.

"I am sure, Eponine," Valjean promised.

"Then I forgive you," Eponine said grudgingly. Her feelings were still hurt, but she could see that Cosette really was sorry.

"And is there something else you would like to say to Cosette?" Valjean prompted her. Eponine looked up at him in confusion. "Eponine, when Cosette shoved you and broke your doll, do you think it was right to strike her in retaliation?"

"No Papa," Eponine said, blushing as she realized she was in trouble, too.

"No, it was not," Valjean agreed. "You should have come to me instead. We have talked about this before, petit. There will be no punishment this time, but if I have to remind you again, you will not like the consequences."

"Yes, Papa," Eponine said ashamedly. "I'm sorry, Cosette. I shouldn't have slapped you."

"It's alright, Ponine," Cosette said shyly. "I forgive you." Unbidden, the girls reached out towards each other for a hug. Smiling, Valjean lifted them off of his knees as they embraced and headed into the kitchen for the glue pot.

Ten minutes later, all three members of the family breathed a deep sigh of relief as Marguerite's head reattached perfectly to her body. "Thank you, Papa," Eponine said gratefully, stroking the doll's china cheek.

"You're welcome, ma Cherie," Valjean said gently. "Mes filles, I hope you learned an important lesson today. Dolls, books, dishes…all those material things are fragile, and can be broken. But my love for you will never be weakened, nor should you allow your love for each other to falter. Do you understand, mes anges?"

"Yes, Papa," the girls chorused, allowing him to draw them in for a hug.

**Don't worry everybody, Cosette's just going through a phase. I promise she's not going to be that petulant again. I don't have a twin sister myself, but I'm sure it must be easy to get jealous, and the poor kid just wanted to play outside. Coming up next: ONE CHAPTER MORE of childhood (like what I did there?), in which Eponine gets to be the troublemaker one last time. And after that, all of you crazy kids will finally get to see romance begin to blossom :) Leave me some awesome reviews!**


	13. Chapter 13

**It is with a touch of sadness that I give you the last chapter of little Cosette and Eponine. I've had so much fun writing them, and I look forward to writing new versions of them in my new story, now officially titled "Beyond the Blitz", which will hopefully be published in a few weeks' time. But I know that 99.9% of you are over the little girls and ready for the romance, so good news! You just have to get through this one last chapter before you finally get your Mariette and Enjonine! I hope you enjoy this chapter though, and thanks for sticking with me up to this point. You guys are seriously the greatest reviewers/readers ever. I truly adore every last one of you. Enjoy!**

_September 16, 1827_

"Papa Papa! Wake up! It's time!"

Valjean grunted as he was awoken by a combination of his children's exclamations and bouncing, as well as one of their knees ramming into his side.

"Time for what, mes filles?" he asked groggily, sitting up and placing his hands on his daughters' arms to settle them down. "The sun has barely risen. It's hardly time for breakfast, let alone anything else."

"It's time for apple picking, Papa!" Eponine exclaimed, continuing to bounce despite her father's grip. "We looked outside of our window this morning, and the apples were all bright red!"

"You promised we could pick the apples when they were bright red, Papa," Cosette reminded him, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Valjean smiled at their enthusiasm. He had been working on cultivating the two little apple trees in their backyard ever since they had moved to Rue Plumet more than three years ago. He was pleased when his labors finally paid off and the trees began to produce buds earlier in the summer. Ever since he had told the girls they were finally going to have apples, they had been beside themselves with impatience. Eponine had asked Valjean to buy her a cookbook for her last birthday, and she and Cosette had spent hours poring over the different dishes they-or rather, Eponine-could make with the apples.

"I did indeed say that, mes petits," Valjean said, ruffling their hair in a teasing way. "But we cannot go until we have had our breakfast, and you're certainly not going outside in those nightgowns. Off you go to get dressed, and after we fill your stomachs, it will be time for apple picking."

"Yes, Papa!" the girls chorused, jumping off the bed and skipping out of the door. Valjean smiled again, a bit more wistfully this time, as he got out of bed to dress himself. He loved the moments when Eponine and Cosette threw caution to the wind and acted like they hadn't a care in the world. It had seemed lately like those moments were growing fewer by the day. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, his precious little girls were beginning to grow up. While they still loved to snuggle with him at night as he read them stories, they did not always run to him when he came home from town as they used to. During one of their last visits to town, Eponine had asked him if she could purchase a little book to keep as a diary. That had been painful enough, realizing that his daughters were starting to have secrets they would rather write down than share with him, but Valjean had been truly alarmed when Cosette had asked him for a pair of high-heeled boots she had seen in the shop window. He had dragged her away from that particular shop in haste, but her ensuing sadness was soon cured by a fresh tart from a nearby bakery, much to Valjean's relief. He knew that as his daughters grew, things were going to change in many ways, but he was grateful for every small moment he could get when they were still his little girls.

Apple picking looked promising to be another such moment that Valjean could treasure. The girls were so excited that they wolfed down their breakfast and tapped their feet impatiently while Valjean calmly finished his own. The second he had drained the last of his tea, each girl grabbed him by one hand and yanked him toward the door.

"Alright, petits, slow down!" Valjean said, laughing as they tugged him along. "The apples are not going anywhere."

The little girls stared up at the tree in wonderment when they reached the backyard. "They're up so high, Papa," Cosette said in awe. "How are we going to reach them?"

"Can we climb?" Eponine asked excitedly.

"No you may not," Valjean said sternly, causing Eponine's face to fall. Neither child knew that Valjean's father had died after falling from a tree, but they both knew that he was very strict about them not climbing trees. Once Eponine had tried to climb one in the park, and had quickly found herself yanked back to the ground and on the receiving end of a severe lecture. Papa had looked almost as angry then as he had when they snuck out of the house, and Eponine hadn't dared climb a tree since.

Valjean's gazed softened as he saw Eponine's abashed look, and he patted her fondly on the cheek. "I will go and get the ladder from the woodshed," Valjean explained. "I will use it to get the highest apples, and you two can take turns sitting on my shoulders to pick the lower ones."

"Alright Papa," Cosette said cheerfully. But as Valjean walked off towards the woodshed, Eponine looked up and saw a beautiful sight. There, in the middle of the tree, was one of the brightest, reddest, juiciest looking apples she had ever seen. It was at least twice the size of any of the others. And it could easily be reached by climbing just two branches. Eponine glanced around the tree and saw that Valjean had disappeared in the woodshed, and her eyes gleamed mischievously as she dropped her cloak from her shoulders and boosted herself onto the lowest branch.

"Ponine!" Cosette hissed, her eyes darting between her sister and the woodshed. "What are you doing? You know we're not allowed to climb!"

"I just want to get that big apple up there," Eponine whispered back, careful to keep her voice low so she didn't alert her Papa. "I'll be down before Papa comes back out."

Cosette looked up at her doubtfully, but Eponine confidently swung onto the next highest branch as though she'd been climbing trees her whole life. As she steadied herself on her feet, she realized she had misjudged the height of the apple, and it was just beyond her reach. Grasping onto the branch above her, she jumped up slightly, but only grazed the coveted fruit with her fingertips. Biting her lip in determination, she jumped once more, and managed to wrap her hand around the apple. But her joy was cut short as her feet felt the branch beneath her give way with a sickening crack. Before Eponine knew what was happening, she was plummeting toward the ground, landing with a horrible thud at the feet of her horrified sister.

Cosette screamed at the top of her lungs and dove to her knees to start shaking Eponine, who was lying limp against the cold dirt with her eyes closed. Valjean heard her cries and came running from the woodshed, his heart growing cold at the sight of the fallen branch and Eponine's still body.

"Dear God, Eponine!" he cried in a strangled breath, sprinting across the yard. "Cosette, stop shaking her!" he ordered as he knelt to the ground. He placed a hand to Eponine's chest and was relieved to find that she was still breathing. "Eponine, ma cher, open your eyes," he said, patting her gently on the cheek. "Eponine? Ma ange, can you hear me?"

Both Valjean and Cosette breathed a heavy sigh of relief when Eponine's large brown eyes fluttered open. "Papa?" she asked groggily. "What happened?"

"You fell out of the tree!" Cosette sobbed beside her. "You climbed the tree after Papa told you not to and you fell and I thought you were dead!"

"Hush, Cosette!" Valjean said firmly. He felt just as panicked as his little blonde daughter, but he didn't want to cause Eponine any undue stress. He looked down into Eponine's eyes and was glad to see that they weren't hazy or out of focus. "Eponine, do you think you can get up?" he asked concernedly.

"Maybe," Eponine said slowly. She pushed off the ground on her elbows as Valjean supported her back with his hand. It was a good thing he was there, because the second she put weight on her left ankle, she stumbled with an agonizing cry.

Valjean caught her before she fell back to the ground and lifted her in his arms, examining her ankle as he did so. "I think you may have sprained your ankle, ma petite," Valjean said gently. "We need to get inside and fix it."

"Should I go get the doctor, Papa?" Cosette asked worriedly, following her father and sister back toward the house.

"That won't be necessary, Cosette," Valjean said, letting Cosette walk ahead so she could open the door for them. "I can fix a sprained ankle." Shortly after Cosette had caught influenza a few winters back, Valjean had bought some medical books that he read in the evening after the girls had gone to bed. He was grateful for the doctor and nurse that had cared for his sick little girl, but he wished to avoid the need for any outside visitors into their home in the future. So in his free time, he studied how to cure basic maladies and injuries. He was fairly confident that he could bandage Eponine's ankle properly. From what he had seen outside, it appeared to be a mild sprain. The child had been extremely lucky.

"Cosette, go fetch one of the spare sheets from the linen closet," Valjean ordered, carrying Eponine back to her bedroom. Cosette hurried to do his bidding, and arrived at his side with the requested sheet just as Valjean finished carefully removing Eponine's shoe from her swollen foot.

"Thank you, petit," Valjean said, removing Eponine's dress so she was just in her chemise. "Now please go make a fresh pot of tea." There wasn't really any medical reason for the tea. Tea was just the one thing Cosette could make without starting a fire, and he didn't want her hovering while he worked on Eponine's ankle. Or while he lectured Eponine for her disobedience.

"Papa?" Eponine asked timidly, once her sister had left the room and her father had started to tear the sheet into bandages. "Are you angry with me?"

Valjean looked up from his work and raised his eyebrow at her. "Did I not forbid you from climbing that tree?" he asked sternly.

"Yes, sir," Eponine whispered, biting her lip nervously. She had only directly disobeyed Papa once before, and that had not turned out well for her. "I just…there was such a pretty apple, and I wanted it so badly. I didn't think I'd get hurt."

"Eponine, I give you rules to follow for a reason," Valjean scolded, finishing the bandages and carefully lifting Eponine's ankle so he could begin to wrap it. "And this was precisely why I forbade you from climbing trees. It is very easy to fall from a tree and injure yourself. You could have been killed!"

"I'm sorry, Papa," Eponine whimpered, her eyes filling with tears that stemmed from both guilt and pain. "Please don't be angry with me."

Valjean didn't say anything until he had finished wrapping the ankle. After propping it on several pillows, he walked over to the other side of the bed and climbed up next to Eponine.

"You will have to stay off your ankle for at least two weeks," he said seriously. "That should be more than sufficient punishment to teach you to obey my rules. So no," he added in a softer tone. "I'm not angry with you, ma petite." And he wasn't, not really. The few seconds where he had believed Eponine might be dead were more than enough to quell his anger.

Eponine sniffled at her father's pronouncement. "I really am sorry, Papa," she said softly.

Valjean leaned over and gave her a kiss on her forehead. "I know you are, ma petite Eponine," he replied gently. "How are you feeling? Do you have any pain other than in your ankle?"

"My head hurts where I bumped it," Eponine admitted. Valjean slipped his hand underneath her head and felt a small goose egg growing where it had come in contact with the ground.

"But you're not dizzy? You can see clearly?" he asked concernedly. Eponine nodded, and Valjean gave her a warm smile. "Then I think you're going to be alright, ma ange. But I will go into town straight away and fetch some medicine to take your pain away. Will you be alright if I leave Cosette with you?"

"Yes Papa," Eponine said, gratefully returning his smile. She was relieved that Papa truly did not seem to be angry with her. Valjean answered her smile with a kiss, and left his little daughter lying in bed.

Soon after he had left, Cosette came scampering into the room, a cup of hot tea in hand. "Ponine, are you alright? Papa said you can't walk. Are you in pain? Did you get in trouble?" she asked anxiously.

"I'm fine, Cosette," Eponine said wearily as she accepted the cup from her sister. "I'm in a little pain, but it's not so bad. Papa said the medicine will make me feel better. And no, I didn't get in trouble. Papa just scolded me a little."

"He should have scolded you a lot," Cosette said, placing her hands on her hips. "I told you not to climb that tree. You scared me half to death when you fell down!"

"I'm sorry, Cosette!" Eponine said, blushing slightly at her sister's rebuke. "I didn't mean to scare anyone. Please don't scold me too; I feel bad enough as it is. And my ankle hurts."

Cosette sighed and began to plump her sister's pillows, her anger dissipating as she fell into her natural role as caregiver. "Is there anything I can do for you, Ponine?" she asked more kindly. "Is your tea alright? Do you want me to read to you?"

"No, thank you. I think I just want to close my eyes for a bit," Eponine said, setting her cup down on the nightstand. "Maybe I can dream about apple picking since I won't get to do it this year. Papa says it will be at least two weeks before I can stand, and he probably won't let me pick them anyway," she said glumly.

As Eponine closed her eyes, Cosette looked out the window where the offending trees stood proudly in the sun. Glancing back to her sister for a moment, Cosette got a sly grin on her face. She knew exactly what she could do to make her sister feel better.

More than two hours later, Valjean returned with a bottle of laudanum, several herbs, and a brand new book to help Eponine past the time. As he stepped into the house, he was surprised to smell something baking. But that was impossible. Eponine was the only one in the house who baked, and she was certainly not in any shape to be in the kitchen. Curious, Valjean walked into the kitchen and was shocked to find Cosette leaning over to lift something from the oven.

"Cosette?" Valjean questioned, not even bothering to hide his surprise. "What are you doing?"

Cosette turned to him with a grin of delight on her face as she set the hot pan carefully on top of the stove. "I did it, Papa!" she said excitedly. "I baked Eponine a pie! And I think it's going to taste good!"

"A pie?" Valjean asked with a raised eyebrow. "That was very sweet, Cosette, but what gave you the idea?"

"Eponine is sad that she's not going to be able to help pick the apples," Cosette explained. "And I know she was looking forward to cooking with them. So I baked an apple pie to cheer her up!"

Valjean's eyebrows narrowed together as he realized that there was only one place Cosette could have gotten apples. "Cosette Fauchelevant," he growled dangerously. "Do you mean to tell me that you climbed the apple tree after what happened to your sister today?! Young lady…"

"Papa!" Cosette cut him off, rolling her eyes in exasperation. "Of course I didn't! I broke a stick off the branch that fell down and I hit the tree until some of the apples fell off. They got a little bruised, but I cut those parts off before I put them in the pie. I would never have disobeyed you like that."

Valjean heaved a deep sigh of relief at her explanation. He felt justified in not punishing Eponine since she had sprained her ankle, but he would have had no choice but to punish Cosette if she had disobeyed him so recklessly.

"That was very thoughtful of you, ma petite Cosette," Valjean said, walking over and patting her on the head. "The pie looks very good, ma ange. Should we see how it tastes before we give some to Ponine?"

"That's probably a good idea," Cosette admitted. "I was very careful to follow the recipe…I checked twice to make sure I didn't mix up the sugar and the salt. But I don't want to give her something bad and make her feel worse."

Valjean laughed and gave her a kiss on her cheek before going to fetch a knife. He cut a thin sliver of the piping hot pie and placed it on a plate. Taking a fork, he scooped up the point of the slice and slipped into his mouth. Cosette watched anxiously as he chewed and swallowed. Valjean looked at his daughter, and a slow smile spread across his face.

"Cosette, ma Cherie," he said proudly. "I do believe you have finally cooked something that is not only edible, but delicious."

Cosette beamed with pride and threw her arms around Valjean's waist. "I did it, Papa!" she exclaimed. "I did it for Eponine!"

"Yes, you did, ma cher," Valjean replied, setting his plate down and swooping her up in his arms. "I am very proud of you!"

Eponine was equally proud of her sister when she woke several hours later and tasted the sweet pie. After feeding Eponine and giving her medicine, Valjean went to fetch the new book he had bought for her, while Cosette changed into her nightgown and climbed into bed next to her sister. He soon returned and took his place in between his two daughters.

"William Shakespeare," Cosette read slowly from the cover, the English name sounding unfamiliar on her tongue. "Who is that, Papa?"

"Monsieur Shakespeare was a very famous playwright," Valjean said, placing an arm around each of his children. "This is a collection of some of his best plays. Would you like to pick one, Eponine?"

Eponine glanced over the table of contents and selected the third play listed. "This one, Papa," she decided. "Romeo and Juliet."

Valjean kissed the crown of her head and turned to the chosen play. The girls snuggled in close to his side as he began to read the tale of the Capulet and the Montague who fell in love.

"Alright, mes petites, that is enough for tonight," he said nearly an hour later, closing the book. "Eponine needs her rest."

"But Papa!" Eponine whined. "I want to find out if they get married!"

"And you shall find out tomorrow," Valjean said patiently, climbing out of the bed to tuck his daughters in.

Eponine heaved a deep sigh as Valjean adjusted the pillows under her ankle and arranged the covers over her. "Isn't it a romantic story, Cosette?" she asked her sister.

"Yes," Cosette said dreamily. "I wonder if a boy will ever climb a balcony for me."

Valjean's eyes grew wide and he made a sound that was a cross between a choke and a whimper. Both girls looked up at him in alarm. "Papa, are you alright?" Cosette asked concernedly.

"Of course, petit, I am quite alright," he said, shaking his head before giving both girls a goodnight kiss. "Cosette, you come fetch me if Eponine needs anything during the night. Bonne nuit, mes anges."

"Bonne nuit, Papa," the girls answered, snuggling under the covers as Valjean snuffed out the candles on their bedside table. As he walked into the foyer, he overheard the girls begin to whisper to each other.

"Cosette," Eponine whispered. "We don't have a balcony. How would a boy climb up to see you if we don't have a balcony?"

"You're right," Cosette replied, sighing dramatically. "I suppose he'll just have to come to the window. Or maybe he can call for me through the garden gate."

For the first time, Valjean was beginning to regret ever leaving the convent.

**Yeah, I know I probably screwed up something medically related, but again, I'm not Joly. So just pretend like I knew what I was talking about. Coming up next: I'm pretty sure I don't need to tell any of you, since you've been chomping at the bit. I'm really nervous about getting into the romance stuff, so my updates may be a little slower because I want to be more careful about what I write. But who knows…if I get enough reviews, I may learn to be careful and fast at the same time :) So if you want your Mariette and Enjonine, send me some love! Although just a warning, Enjolras will most likely not be in the next chapter, but he will definitely be in the ones after, so me updating quickly is still in your best interests! **


	14. Chapter 14

**Hey guys! So I've got to be honest, I'm really not loving life right now. It just feels like one of those times where everything seems to go wrong. School sucks, dating sucks, my health sucks, yada yada. I'm not telling you this to garner sympathy; I'm only telling you to ask that if I somehow screwed the romance up, PLEASE do not give me a hard time about it! I'm so unused to writing romance, and this chapter did not come easy. Plus it's a bit of a transition chapter. But seriously, right now one of the few great things I have going are you guys and your incredible reviews, so please keep the encouragement coming! I hope you enjoy it, at least a little bit! **

Valjean awoke to the sound of a clanging pot and the smell of cooking eggs. He smiled as he stretched his arms above his head and got out of bed to begin preparing for the day. He could remember a time not so long ago when he had been the first in his little house to awake and begin to prepare breakfast. But as the years had passed, the routine of the Fauchelevant family had changed.

Valjean could hardly believe that this Christmas Eve would mark the 8th year he had spent as a father to his two precious daughters. Every night, he got down on his knees and said a grateful prayer to the Lord, thanking Him for allowing each day to pass peacefully and uneventfully. Well, for the most part, anyway. He was still the father of two spirited girls, who had passed through childhood to puberty and were now on the verge of womanhood. Needless to say, there had been a few exceptions when the days had been downright chaotic.

As Valjean walked down the hallway, he was met by the sight of Cosette, who was just coming in from outside. She had not yet prepared herself for the day; she was wearing only a simple cotton frock with her hair flowing freely down her back. Valjean could hardly blame her as the summer days were becoming quite hot.

"Bonjour Papa!" Cosette said gaily, skipping down the foyer and greeting him with a kiss on his cheek.

"Bonjour, ma petite Cosette!" Valjean said fondly. No matter how old his daughters became, he could not bring himself to cease the use of his childhood pet names for them. Neither Eponine nor Cosette minded, they just laughed at their Papa. "What were you doing outside at such an early hour?"

"I thought it might be nice to have some flowers to brighten up the house," Cosette replied, showing him the large bouquet of daises she had picked. "Besides, I don't think Eponine wanted my help in the kitchen," she added, flushing slightly.

Valjean gave a hearty laugh and returned her kiss. Although Cosette had become slightly less of a hindrance in the kitchen over the years, Eponine was still the head chef of Rue Plumet. As she had grown older, she had become a bit bossier about it, only allowing her father and sister to aid her when there were menial tasks to be done, such as chopping vegetables. "There is no need to be embarrassed, Cosette," Valjean said, taking her by the arm and leading her toward the kitchen. "The sight of the flowers will be just as inviting as the taste of breakfast."

Father and daughter entered the kitchen just as Eponine was beginning to divide the eggs onto three china plates. "Bonjour, ma petite Eponine," Valjean said, helping Cosette to her seat before giving his other child a kiss on the cheek. "Everything smells delicious."

"Thank you Papa," Eponine replied, returning his kiss and adding a warm embrace, much to Valjean's appreciation. As the girls had grown older, Eponine had become slightly more rebellious than her sister. She was more prone to arguing with him over things than Cosette was. However, despite her free spirited nature, she remained the more physically affectionate of the two. She still loved to sit with him in the evenings and listen to him read aloud. Cosette did too, but she would often sit next to him and work on her knitting or sewing, while Eponine would lie with her head in his lap or rested against his shoulder.

"Well mes filles, the weather is looking quite lovely today," Valjean commented as he took a sip of his tea. "Perhaps we should take a walk into town? Maybe take a stroll through Jardin de Luxembourg?"

"That sounds wonderful, Papa!" Cosette said happily. She never turned down an opportunity to go into town.

"May we stop at the dress shop on the way home, Papa?" Eponine asked him. "I accidentally ripped my violet sash last night. It got caught on the fence while I was pulling weeds."

"Of course we can, Eponine," Valjean promised. "Anything for mes anges."

Several hours later, Valjean watched from a shaded bench as his daughters strolled down one of the garden paths. He felt an unbidden tear come to his eye as he thought, not for the first time, about how beautiful they were becoming. They had always been lovely young girls, even when they were dressed in rags and covered in soot. But the years had been very kind to both of them.

Cosette's eyes appeared to grow larger and bluer every time Valjean looked at her. Her hair had grown into shiny, thick waves that fell down her waist, and her smile was dazzling. She carried herself with a grace that was remarkable when one considered she had never known a mother's care, yet she still maintained her childhood sweetness. The mint green gown she had chosen to wear to Luxembourg offset her creamy skin perfectly, and the sound of her laugh was musical as Eponine made some witty comment.

Eponine, too, had become quite the beauty. Her skin was not nearly as fair as her sister's, but she had her mother's dark brown locks and luscious brown eyes, which complimented her canary yellow gown to perfection. Her dimples had grown deeper as the years had passed, and it warmed Valjean's heart each time he saw her smile. Fortunately, Eponine smiled often, as she was incredibly lively and warm-hearted. Except, of course, when she was questioning something she had read or something her father had said. Then she could develop a fearsome temper. Valjean knew he was lucky that she had never defied him in any major way, not since she was a child.

"Oh Ponine, it's so hot!" Cosette complained as they strolled. "Perhaps we should have stayed home so we wouldn't have had to wear our nicer dresses and bonnets."

Eponine raised a surprised eyebrow at her sister. "You must really be quite hot if you're complaining about dressing up," she said with good humor. Eponine cared about how she looked, but she was not nearly as concerned with her appearance as Cosette was. Cosette enjoyed buying new dresses and primping until she looked as perfect as a porcelain doll. Eponine tended to wear her beauty carelessly, like a wild rose, though Cosette would never let her leave the house until she looked presentable. Eponine teased her about it, but secretly she was glad that Cosette was there to help her with things like choosing dresses. Just as Cosette was happy to have Eponine around to help her with more practical things like cooking.

"Try loosening your bonnets ribbons," Eponine recommended. "Maybe if it's not so tight across your head, you will feel a bit less warm." Eponine, for her part, had chosen to go bareheaded for that very reason.

Cosette took her sister's suggestion, and was relieved to find that it was cooler to not have her bonnet tied so tightly. But she and Eponine had barely taken a dozen steps before a sudden gust of wind came and blew Cosette's bonnet straight off of her head.

"Oh no!" Cosette gasped, dropping Eponine's arm and scurrying after her wayward bonnet. She was so anxious to grab it that she did not notice the chivalrous gentleman leaning down to pick it up for her.

"Oof!" the young man grunted, falling as Cosette crashed headfirst into him. Cosette skidded to a halt and her hands flew to her face in embarrassment.

"Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry!" she apologized, her face turning bright red as she stared at the young man. He rose to his feet and dusted himself off with one hand while using the other to return her bonnet.

"No need for apologies, Mademoiselle. There was no harm done," the boy said, straightening his jacket and raising his eyes to look at her. As he did, he could feel his breath catch in his throat. The creature who had displayed the strength of a young filly when she slammed into him seconds before was actually a delicate, beautiful young girl, with eyes the color of a robin's egg and hair like spun gold. Her skin was an immaculate shade of cream, save for the two spots of pink that were present from her embarrassment.

The boy gaped at her in silence, completely forgetting his manners as he took in every detail of her lovely face. Fortunately for him, Cosette had forgotten her manners as well. She was just as taken with his slim face and hazel eyes as he was with her features. He had a smattering of freckles across his nose that gave him a certain boyish charm, but he had strong, sturdy shoulders, and carried himself like a confident man.

"Erm…are you alright, Mademoiselle?" the boy asked awkwardly, finally shaking himself out of his stupor. "I hope you were not hurt when you ran into me."

"Oh…no!" Cosette said quickly. "I mean…no, I wasn't hurt. Thank you, Monsiuer…um…"

"Marius," the young man interjected. "My name is Marius. Marius Pontmercy."

Cosette gave him a shy smile, which he instantly returned, much to Cosette's delight. Never before had she seen such a charming, carefree grin. "Marius," she repeated, savoring the name as it fell over her tongue. "And mine's Cosette."

Eponine was standing and watching the whole exchange take place with interest when she felt a strong hand grasp her shoulder. "Eponine, what is going on? Who is Cosette talking to?" Valjean asked concernedly.

"Nothing Papa," Eponine said quickly, trying to catch her sister's eye so she would cease her conversation. Papa was surely not going to be happy that Cosette was speaking to a stranger on her own. "Cosette lost her bonnet and the gentleman picked it up for her. She is only thanking him."

Valjean's eyebrows furrowed deeply. Cosette seemed to be taking a great deal of time to thank this young man. He watched as the boy said something to his daughter which caused her to blush and giggle. Valjean felt his hackles raise slightly as he sharply called out, "Cosette!"

The smile instantly dropped from Cosette's face as she glanced over her shoulder in alarm. "Coming Papa!" she said nervously. "I'm so sorry, my Papa…I must go," she apologized to Marius.

"Wait!" Marius said anxiously, placing a hand on her wrist. "Do you…I mean, do you come by Luxembourg often?"

"Well, we try…"

"Cosette!" Valjean called more insistently. Cosette could hear the warning tone in his voice, and she nodded her head at Marius before hurrying off to join her family.

"Forgive me Papa," Cosette panted, slightly out of breath from her short run. "I only wished to thank Monsieur Marius for retrieving my bonnet."

Valjean raised his eyebrow in surprise. In the brief time his daughter had spent talking to the young man, she had already learned his name. "Cosette, you know the rules about speaking to strangers, especially on your own," he said sternly. "It was alright to thank him, but you should have called for me to come with you."

"Yes, Papa," Cosette said, lowering her eyes to her shoes. Valjean's gaze softened at her contrite look, and he decided there was no need to scold her further. "It is getting far too warm out here, mes filles," he said gently. "Why don't we stop at the little patisserie next to dress shop for dinner, and then we can go replace Eponine's sash?"

"That sounds lovely, Papa," Eponine smiled, giving her sister a curious look. Cosette nodded her agreement and accepted her father's arm when he offered it to her. But as the trio strolled back down the path, she could not help glancing over her shoulder. Much to her delight, Monsieur Marius was standing exactly where she had left him, his eyes following her with a wistful gaze.

Later that evening, after the girls had retired for the night, Eponine glanced up from the book she was reading in bed. "Cosette?" she said questioningly. "You've been brushing your hair for nearly half an hour. Aren't you coming to bed?"

Cosette nearly dropped the hairbrush as her sister's voice pierced the dreamy silence she had enveloped herself in. "Oh…of course, 'Ponine," she said quickly. She grabbed a ribbon from the vanity and came over to the bed. Eponine could see that she was far too distracted to braid her own hair, so she gently extracted the ribbon from her hands and began to braid the golden locks herself.

"Cosette," Eponine said softly after a moment. "You've been wandering around like you've seen a ghost ever since we left Luxembourg. What in Heaven's name did that boy say to you?"

Cosette instantly turned bright red as she realized her sister had noticed her odd behavior. "Is it that obvious, 'Ponine?" she asked anxiously. "Oh goodness, do you think Papa noticed? I don't want to make him angry."

"Well, he wasn't happy that you were speaking to…what's his name, Marius? That's for certain," Eponine said, tying the ribbon in a pretty bow at the end of the braid. "But I don't think he's noticed your behavior. Or if he has, he's accounting it to the heat. You know in his eyes, we are still those little girls lost in the wood. I don't think he can fathom that either of us would ever be in love."

Cosette turned sharply and looked at her sister with wide eyes. "In _love_?" she squeaked, her face very nearly turning purple at the suggestion. "Eponine Fauchelevant, I am not in love! I spoke to Marius for less than two minutes! Goodness Eponine, people cannot fall in love so fast!"

"Alright then, you're not in love!" Eponine interjected, pressing a finger to her sister's lips as her anxious voice became shriller. It certainly wouldn't do to wake Papa and have him ask any questions. "But you were fond of him, were you not?"

Cosette took a deep breath and drew her knees to her chest. "I've never felt that way before, 'Ponine," she said quietly. "It was…I can't explain it. When he smiled it me it was like…a burst of light. I thought that only happened in storybooks."

"Well, writers have to get their ideas from somewhere, so I suppose it can happen in the real world as well," Eponine said, scooting over closer to her sister and wrapping her arm around her shoulders.

"I don't know why I'm even continuing to think about him," Cosette said, shaking her head sadly. "It's not as though I'll ever see him again. And even if I did, Papa would never allow me to speak to him."

"That is a problem," Eponine said thoughtfully. "I wonder if he goes to Luxembourg often. Perhaps we may see him again this summer?"

"He might," Cosette said, her face brightening a bit. "He did ask if I came frequently to Luxembourg."

"That must mean he wants to see you again as well!" Eponine said encouragingly.

"Do you really think so?" Cosette asked hopefully. But Eponine barely had time to nod before her sister's face fell once more. "Even if I see him every day, I'll never get a chance to talk to him. Papa will be watching me like a hawk."

Eponine stroked her sister's hair and contemplated for several minutes before an idea struck her. "Cosette," she said with a mischievous grin. "I have a plan."

The next day, as Valjean watched even more alertly from his bench, Cosette led Eponine slightly off their usual path through Luxembourg. She had already seen Monsieur Marius from a distance. He was seated upon another bench, pretending to be engrossed in a book, though both Cosette and Eponine could spot him peeking over the top of the pages and watching them intently. Fortunately, Valjean was so focused on his daughters that he did not notice the boy.

Cosette and Eponine stopped under a large tree and leaned against the trunk. They pretended to fan themselves so Papa would think they were just getting some shade. As Eponine leaned forward to block Cosette from Valjean's vision, Cosette reached into her sleeve and extracted a small piece of paper. Flashing it in Marius's direction so he was sure to see it, she slipped the paper into a large knot in the trunk of the tree. Giving him a quick, secret smile, she took Eponine's arm once more and led her away from the tree.

Marius waited for well over an hour until the two girls and their father had left before sprinting over to the tree, completely forgetting his book on the bench. Jamming his hand into the knot, he withdrew the piece of paper and eagerly read the simple message that was scrawled on it:

_55 Rue Plumet_

_Seven O'clock_

_Cosette_

**So there you have it: Marius is officially in the building! Coming up next: Marius and Cosette begin their relationship through the garden gates of Rue Plumet. And yes, before you ask, Enjolras will be showing up next chapter. However, you won't get any Enjonine until the chapter after that. It's just the way it has to work unless I want to completely skip over Marius and Cosette, which doesn't seem fair to them. I hope I didn't butcher this too badly! Thanks for reading, and thanks in advance for awesome reviews!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Hey guys! I am so sorry, I completely forgot to put the date on the last chapter! Currently we are in the summer prior to the Revolution, so Cosette and Eponine are 15. Marius is 18 and Enjolras is 19. Valjean is 55 based on my own skewed time line where he was arrested at the age of 19 (with Hugh Jackman in my mind, Valjean absolutely cannot be in his 60s). This chapter is starting on the same day that the last chapter ended with. Thank you all so much for your kind reviews last chapter! They definitely gave me a lot of encouragement in the romance department-I was glad I didn't seem to scare any of you off with it, lol. A special thank you to all of my guest reviewers: I don't get to thank you guys personally since I can't PM you, but all of you mean so much to me. I've never had guest reviewers leave such kind, detailed reviews before, and I really appreciate them. Speaking of reviews, who is going to be the lucky 300****th**** reviewer? You don't actually get anything, though I will congratulate you on your accomplishment :) That doesn't mean you can all wait before reviewing this chapter, though!**

**Also, I have completely forgotten to publicly thank the wonderful readers who have made cover art for this story! That was an epic fail on my part. If you go to my tumblr (username is eponineceline), you will see three different pieces of cover art; two by preciousat and one by Drowl. They are fabulous and I'm so grateful to both of them! I know I have one more piece of cover art coming, and if anyone else wants to make some, you are more than welcome to! Just give me a heads up :) **

**On a completely unrelated note, there is a new Enjonine fic being published very soon called Ma Rebelle Fleur, written by Fanpire101. I've seen the first chapter, and it is going to be absolutely brilliant! I highly encourage all of you to read and review it once it's published (don't worry; she's not going to make you suffer through 13 chapters of childhood like I did). Now that I've made that little plug, here's the next chapter!**

_July 23, 1931_

That evening, just after 6 o'clock, Cosette and Eponine put the second part of their brilliant plan into action. The family was seated around the kitchen table eating their supper when Eponine dropped her fork and dramatically pressed her hand to her forehead.

"Oh Papa!" she groaned, closing her eyes and leaning forward slightly. "I feel ill! My head is aching…I fear I might faint!"

Cosette had to bite the inside of her cheek to avoid laughing at her sister's over the top dramatics, but Valjean appeared to be sufficiently fooled. He immediately stood and hurried to Eponine's side.

"You do not seem to have a fever, ma petit," Valjean said worriedly, kneeling beside her and pressing a gentle hand to her forehead. "Does anything else hurt besides your head?"

"My eyes feel itchy and watery," Eponine said pitifully, managing to conjure up a few tears for effect. "And my stomach is churning…and I'm dizzy…and now I think I'm hearing things that aren't there!"

"Oh my!" Valjean said concernedly, studying Eponine's eyes intently.

Cosette rolled her eyes and planted her feet firmly on the ground to resist the urge to kick her sister under the table. She could tell Eponine was enjoying playing this part, but if she got too out of control Papa might panic and send for a doctor, and the whole plan would be ruined. Fortunately, Eponine stopped listing her various fictional ailments on her own accord and proceeded with the final part of the plan.

"Papa?" Eponine asked in a small voice, leaning her head against Valjean's shoulder and looking up at him with wide eyes. "I think I need to go lie down. Will you sit with me? And maybe read to me from the book of fairy tales I like so much?" Eponine hadn't read fairy tales in years, but she had enjoyed them immensely as a child, and she knew that Papa would not be able to resist babying her for the evening.

"Of course, ma petite Eponine," Valjean said soothingly, patting her shoulder and giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead.

"Erm…Papa?" Cosette asked tentatively as Valjean helped Eponine from her chair. "After I clear the table, might I go sit in the garden for a while? I think the fresh air would do me good, particularly if whatever Eponine has is catching."

"Of course, Cosette," Valjean said distractedly, half carrying Eponine out of the room as she slumped against him. "Be inside before it gets dark."

_Perfect_, Cosette thought as Valjean and Eponine left the room. _I have just enough time to clean up before Marius gets here._ She hurriedly rose to her feet and started to clear the dishes.

Half an hour later, Cosette was seated nervously on a bench near the garden gate. The bench was strategically located behind one of their larger trees so Papa could not see her immediately if he came outside to check on her. Hopefully Eponine would keep him distracted. Cosette would not put it past her sister to start screaming in agony to alert her if Papa did leave the room for some reason.

Her worries about her father discovering her were quickly dispelled when she heard a set of footsteps approaching the gate. Her breath catching in her throat, she looked up as Marius cautiously came into view behind the iron bars.

"Mademoiselle Cosette," he said softly, smiling delightedly as he realized he had found her. "It is wonderful to see you again."

"And you, Monsieur Marius," Cosette responded, blushing as she rose to open the gate and allow him to come in. "Please, you may call me Cosette. There is no need to be formal."

"Very well, Cosette. Only you must call me Marius," he replied, joining her on the bench once she was seated again. The two stared at each other for a moment, each struck with the sudden realization that they had no earthly idea of what to talk about it.

"So…you do go to Luxembourg often, then?" Marius asked finally, deciding to begin with the last words he had spoken to her.

"Oh…yes!" Cosette said quickly, relieved that the silence had been broken. "Well, as often as Papa will take us. He prefers to stay at home, but he doesn't mind Luxembourg so much. I love gardens. I enjoy flowers and the fresh air and…" she trailed off as she realized she was babbling.

Marius was discouraged when she stopped talking, as he had been drinking in every word. "Luxembourg is lovely," he commented. "I find it a very relaxing place to study."

"Study? You are a student, then?" Cosette asked with interest.

"I am," Marius said, feeling a little less nervous as the conversation took on a more natural flow. "A student of the law, to be precise. This is my first year at university."

"That must be so exciting," Cosette said sincerely. "The law is a noble profession. Do you still live with your family?"

The eager smile immediately faded from Marius's face, and Cosette began to panic. "Forgive me, Marius…perhaps that was too forward of me to ask," she stammered.

"Oh no," Marius said hastily. "Forgive me for my reaction. It is perfectly acceptable for you to ask. It's just…well, I was raised by my grandfather for most of my life. But we recently had a bit of a falling out and…well, I left home about four months ago. I haven't spoken to any of my family since."

"Oh my," Cosette said sympathetically. "I am so sorry, Marius. I do not know what I would do without my Papa and my sister."

"It has been a bit difficult," Marius admitted. "But I am fortunate to have good friends who are like my family now. There is a group of us who are part of a society committed to social justice. They have all helped me to find lodging and work."

"It must be so wonderful to have such close friends," Cosette said wistfully.

"Surely you must have some such friends of your own?" Marius asked curiously.

"Not really," Cosette said, shaking her head. "My twin sister Eponine is my best friend, of course. We do everything together. She's actually inside right now, distracting Papa while we're out here. I don't know what I'd do without her."

"Neither do I," Marius said with a cheeky grin. The two shared a laugh before Cosette continued.

"When I was younger, we lived in a convent for a time, and I made a few friends there," she remembered. "But since then, it's almost always just been Papa, Eponine and I."

"That sounds like a very quiet life," Marius observed.

"I suppose it has been," Cosette agreed. "But I wouldn't trade it for anything. Papa adopted us when we were small, and we've never been happier. He loves us dearly."

"You are lucky to have a father who cares so deeply for you," Marius said. "I unfortunately never got to meet my father. My mother either, I'm afraid. It was always my grandfather and I for as long as I can remember."

"I don't remember much about my mother, either," Cosette confided. "I was so young when she left us…three, I think. Papa never mentions her."

"My grandfather refused to speak of my parents as well," Marius said. Struck by a sudden burst of boldness, most likely due to the personal direction the conversation had taken, he tentatively reached out and grasped Cosette's hand with his own. Cosette gave a soft gasp of surprise, but did not pull her hand away.

Overcome with joy that she had not shied away from him, Marius gave Cosette a warm smile. "Come, let us talk of happier things," he said, squeezing her hand gently.

"Yes, let's," Cosette agreed, returning his smile. "You must tell me all about these friends of yours. You said you are all part of a group?"

"Yes," Marius said, his face brightening as he spoke of his close comrades. "We are called the Les Amis de l'ABC. Enjolras is our leader. Then there is Courfeyrac, Combeferre, Grantaire…"

As Marius described his friends in great detail and Cosette listened with rapt attention, the sun began to set in the Parisian sky. Before the young couple realized it, the night was practically pitch black. Marius was in the middle of describing his friend Joly's latest medical complaint when Cosette jumped to her feet.

"Oh my goodness!" she gasped. "It's dark outside! Papa insisted I be in the house before it got dark!"

Marius could have stayed and talked to Cosette until dawn and thought nothing of it, but he certainly did not want to get her into trouble. He remembered her father's stern reaction at Luxembourg when she had thanked him for retrieving her bonnet, and he shuddered to think of the reaction that would come from finding a strange boy in his garden with his daughter.

"Go now, then," he said quickly, slipping towards the gate. Before he exited, he turned to her with a concerned look on his face. "When will I see you again?"

"I will try to come to Luxembourg in the next two days," Cosette promised. "I will leave you a note in the same tree."

"I will be there every day until I see you again," Marius swore. "Until then, farewell, my beautiful Cosette."

As he disappeared into the night, Cosette had to steady herself against the bars of the gate before going back into the house. _Beautiful Cosette_, she repeated in her mind. Papa often told her she was beautiful, but hearing it from Marius gave her an entirely different feeling. She rather liked it.

As Cosette wandered blissfully into the house and down the hallway, she could vaguely hear Valjean reading the last words of some fairy tale.

"…And they all lived happily ever after," Valjean said quietly, closing the book as Cosette floated into the bedroom. Valjean gave her a quick smile before turning his attentions to his bedridden child. "Did that make you feel better, ma petite Eponine?" he asked, tenderly stroking Eponine's hair back from her forehead.

Eponine gave him a weak smile and caught her father's hand in her own. "Much, Papa," she said softly, adding a delicate cough for good measure. "You always know how to make me feel better. You are so good to sit here and take care of me. I love you so much, Papa."

Even in her dreamlike state, Cosette found herself briefly considering if Eponine should pursue a career in the theater. She clearly seemed to be enjoying playing her role this evening, for which Cosette was grateful. Valjean was so touched by his Eponine's praises that he did not think to ask Cosette why she had come in so late. Or for that matter, why she was smiling broadly and humming to herself while her sister was lying ill in bed.

Eponine could instantly tell that the evening had gone well for Cosette, and she found herself desperate to get rid of Papa as quickly as possible. She faked a huge yawn and snuggled back into her pillow. "I'm so tired, Papa," she whispered. "I think a good night's rest is what I really need."

"Of course, ma ange," Valjean said understandingly, giving her a kiss on her forehead before rising to bid Cosette goodnight. "Cosette, will you be sure to come get me if your sister requires my attention?"

"Yes, Papa," Cosette replied dreamily. She actually hadn't heard a word her father had just said; she had gotten lucky and given the correct response by instinct.

"Thank you, ma ange," Valjean said, completely oblivious to his daughter's odd behavior. "Bonne Nuit, mes filles," he said, exiting the room quietly.

Eponine lay perfectly still until she heard Valjean's bedroom door close, then she leapt out of bed and grabbed Cosette by the hands. "He came, didn't he?" she asked excitedly. "I can see it in your eyes, Cosette…I've never seen you look this happy. Oh, tell me everything!"

"Hush!" Cosette admonished her, though the grin on her face indicated that Eponine was correct. "You're supposed to be afflicted by about ten different ailments…you don't want Papa to hear you. Speaking of which, I never knew you had such a talent for drama. I fear you will leave me and join a traveling theater troupe."

"Oh don't be silly," Eponine said dismissively. "It's far more fun to use my talents to help you see your Monsieur Marius. Now stop avoiding the subject," she said, pulling her sister over to sit on the bed. "Start from the beginning, and do not leave anything out." Cosette curled up next to her sister and began recounting every second of her perfectly blissful evening.

Over the next couple weeks, Marius and Cosette developed a routine for seeing each other. They knew Valjean would become suspicious if Cosette went out to the garden every night, so they were forced to remain apart for two or three days at a time. Every other day or so, Cosette or Eponine would convince their father to take them to Jardin de Luxembourg, where they would deposit a note with a new meeting time in the knot of the large tree. If it was going to be more than a day before their next meeting, Cosette would also leave a letter of her affections for Marius. Marius, without fail, would be sitting on his bench, his face buried in a book so as not to attract Valjean's attention. If Cosette had left him a letter, he would answer it immediately and leave it outside the garden gate for her to find in the morning. Even if she hadn't left a letter, he spent the majority of his lectures at university counting the minutes until he would see her again.

On the evenings that Marius did come to visit, Eponine would contrive a new scheme to distract her father so her sister could be left undisturbed for an hour or so. It wouldn't do for her to be sick all the time; she didn't want to worry Papa needlessly, after all. So Eponine was forced to get creative, which was a challenge she thoroughly enjoyed. The second night Marius came to visit, Eponine had held Valjean hostage in the sitting room while she painstakingly fitted him for a new overcoat for winter. Valjean had protested that it was far too early for such a thing, and he could get a perfectly good coat in town, but Eponine had insisted that she wanted to make him one herself, and that she must start early so she had time to perfect it. She deliberately pinned the left sleeve incorrectly three times so that Marius and Cosette would have time to discuss the class the former was taking on legal philosophy.

About a week later, while walking past the bookshop in town, Eponine was struck by a burst of genius and announced to her father out of the blue that she desired to learn Latin. Dragging him into the shop, she purchased a heavy Latin textbook, much to Valjean's bewilderment and Cosette's amusement. The next evening, Eponine sweetly asked Valjean if he would help her master the subject. Valjean didn't know the first thing about Latin, but it had been a few years since he had given his daughters formal lessons, so he was pleased for the opportunity to revisit those happy times. Cosette, for her part, had stated that Latin sounded frightfully dull, and that she wished to spend the evening getting some fresh air in the garden. So while Valjean and Eponine slowly muddled their way through verb conjugations, Cosette and Marius were able to spend a happy evening discussing poetry.

It was mid-August when Eponine began to run out of excuses to keep Valjean occupied in the evenings. Marius was due that evening, and Eponine spent the morning trying to come up with a plan. She was considering going to find a rat to set loose in the house so Valjean could chase it all night, but for better or for worse, she found herself not needing to perform her new scheme. Shortly before noon, Cosette came down with a painful head cold.

"It's probably from sitting out in the garden all these evenings," Eponine remarked, sitting next to her sister on the bed and stroking her hair. "Even in summer the night air can't be good for you."

"Oh Eponine, what am I going to do?" Cosette asked forlornly. "I can barely stand up with this pain in my head! Marius is supposed to come tonight at 7:00, and I don't know how to get word to him that I shan't be there!"

"Sh, don't you fret," Eponine said soothingly. "I will wait in the garden for Marius and tell him that you are ill. Papa will be watching over you, so he won't notice if I slip out for a bit. Besides, it's high time I met this boy, considering I've spent the better part of a month helping you sneak around with him."

"Oh thank you, 'Ponine," Cosette said gratefully. She was sad that she wouldn't get to see her Marius that evening, but at least he would know it was not her choice. "Will you give him a letter from me?" she asked hopefully.

"Of course," Eponine promised, getting up to fetch a pen and paper. "You dictate it to me, though. Writing will just make your headache worse."

While Cosette was saddened by the knowledge that she wouldn't see Marius that evening, Marius was in an absolute state of panic by the knowledge that he couldn't go to see Cosette that evening. One of his professors had just scheduled a surprise exam for 7:00. If Marius didn't go, he risked failing the course, and he couldn't afford for that to happen. He was sitting on a bench outside his lecture hall, frantically trying to decide whether he should run over to Cosette's house at that very moment, when a deep voice snapped him out of his reverie.

"Marius?" Enjolras said, approaching him with a look of concern on his face. "What is wrong with you, my friend? You look positively ill."

"Enjolras!" Marius cried, jumping to his feet. "Please, I need a favor from you. I have an exam tonight, but I am supposed to see my darling Cosette this evening. I need you to take a message to her explaining why I cannot come."

Enjolras narrowed his eyes in displeasure. "Marius, are you still obsessing about that girl you met in Luxembourg a few weeks ago?" he demanded. "Is that why you haven't been coming to the meetings lately? I'm surprised at you Marius. You are no longer a child; you know you have responsibilities to the cause, and…"

"Enjolras, please!" Marius interrupted him. "I know I've been lax in my duties lately, but you can't possibly understand how I feel. I love her completely, with all my heart. Sometimes it is as though she is the only thing that exists in my world."

Enjolras sighed deeply. "Marius, even if I wanted to help you, I am busy tonight. I have to go to the printers to make more leaflets about the prison conditions in Paris. I would go this afternoon, but I have to go after dark. You know the police are starting to get suspicious of me."

"That's perfect!" Marius blurted out. "Her house is on Rue Plumet. That's halfway between here and the printer's! You can drop it off on your way. Please Enjolras, I must let her know what is happening. I cannot fail her any more than I can fail my classes."

Enjolras studied his anxious friend appraisingly. "On one condition," he said finally. "That you promise to start attending the meetings at Café Musain again. We've missed you lately, and I could use your help with some of our new initiatives. You know you're a valuable member of our group, particularly with your background. I realize you're trying to soothe your lonely soul, but we're striving for something far more important right now."

"You have my word!" Marius promised, unable to mask the sheer delight in his voice. "Thank you so much, Enjolras! Here, let me borrow your pen. I'll have the note for Cosette written in less than five minutes."

Enjolras handed his friend the pen and watched as he excitedly scrawled out a message on a spare bit of paper. _Honestly, _he thought, shaking his head as Marius misspelled a word in his nervousness. _The boy is acting like a complete lunatic. Thank God I'm not in love._

**What's this? Enjolras is on his way to meet Cosette, Eponine is waiting to meet Marius, but it looks like they're going to be in for a bit of a surprise…;) Yes, my crazy little Enjonine shippers, the time is near! So near, it's stirring the blood in your veins! And yet…I'm going to stop before that gets out of hand. But yeah, coming up next: Enjonine reunion! I hope you guys liked this one-I had an absolute ball writing dramatic Eponine! I can't wait to hear what you think!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Due to unforeseen circumstances, Enjonine will no longer be appearing in this chapter…psych! It's finally here, and I fully expect to be bombarded by enthusiastic reviews since I finally gave all you rabid readers your beloved Enjonine (and I use the term rabid in love). The last round of reviews was incredible-thank you all so much :) A shout-out to fairygron for making me a new piece of amazing cover art! You guys can check it out on my tumblr; she did an awesome job. Also, if you guys haven't checked out Ma Fleur Rebelle by Fanpire101, you really need to! It's a brilliant take on the Enjonine story, and you won't regret giving it a shot! **

Eponine sat quietly on the stone bench under the willow tree, listening intently for the sound of approaching footsteps. Cosette's headache had gotten worse as the day had progressed, which was actually a good thing because Valjean refused to leave her side, so there was little chance he would notice what was going on in the garden. Eponine only hoped that she would be able to restrain Marius from bursting into the house unannounced to see that his beloved was not on the brink of death. Eponine had never spoken to him before, but from what Cosette had told her, it sounded like the young man was smitten with her sister to the point of being reckless. She would have to convince him that going into the house and making her father angry would cause further detriment to Cosette's health.

The sound of brisk, heavy footsteps on the pavement caught Eponine's attention, and she quietly stood and approached the iron gate. She took a startled step backwards, however, when she realized that the boy approaching her was not Marius, but a tall, serious looking young man with a mess of rakish blonde curls.

"Forgive me for startling you, Mademoiselle Cosette," Enjolras said, nodding his head politely. "I know you were expecting Marius, but he was detained this evening. I have brought you a message from him."

Eponine quickly gathered her wits when she realized the man was not a robber. "Pardon me, Monsieur," she responded. "My sister Cosette was detained this evening as well. She gave me a letter for Marius explaining why. My name is Eponine."

"Ah, I see," Enjolras said. "My apologies. If you please, would you pass this note along to your sister? I must be on my way."

Eponine raised her eyebrow as she traded notes with Enjolras. "You must have very pressing business to attend to, Monsieur," she commented. "You have not even given me your name so I may tell Cosette who the messenger was."

Enjolras bowed his head slightly. "Again, my apologies, Mademoiselle," he said, though he looked slightly annoyed that his errand was taking longer than expected. "My name is Enjolras."

Eponine's eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat. She had heard that name before. She could count the number of people she had met since living at Rue Plumet on one hand, and the name Enjolras was not common. Besides, there was no mistaking that distinctive head of hair. "Jourdain?" she asked softly, not even bothering to hide the wonderment in her voice.

Enjolras's eyebrows drew together in confusion. "Erm, yes," he said slowly. "I'm sorry, how do you know my first name? I have not used it in years-not even Marius knows it."

"I remember it from the first time we met," Eponine said, an almost shy smile spreading across her face. When Enjolras continued to stare at her in bewilderment, she held the letter out for him to take.

"Tell me, Jourdain," she said, her brown eyes twinkling. "Are your fingers still clever enough to turn this piece of paper into a rose?"

Enjolras felt his own breath catch in his throat at her question. He had only ever made paper roses for two people in his lifetime. He had made his last paper rose for his mother, when he was sixteen and she was on her death bed. But he had also made one for a lost little girl, with wide brown eyes and a sparkling smile.

"Eponine," he said quietly, realization dawning on him. "'Ponine."

Eponine's smile grew wider at his use of her nickname. "So you do remember?"

"Of course," Enjolras said, returning her smile with a small one of his own. He vaguely wondered to himself when the last time was that he smiled. "I cannot believe I did not remember the address when Marius told me. Or that I failed to recognize Cosette's name. Usually details such as that would not have escaped me. I have been rather...preoccupied as of late."

"Yes, Cosette told me that Marius and his friends were working for social change," Eponine said, taking a subtle step closer to the gate. "Still protecting those in need, I see. Just like you did all those years ago. I should have known then that you would grow up to be a noble insurgent."

Enjolras's small smile became more apparent as he remembered the day he had saved Eponine and Cosette from the gang of gamins. He had not considered it until this moment, but helping the girls had been the event that sparked his passion for helping those in need. As a young child, he had always been bothered by the distinct inequality between various groups of people. But standing up for Eponine and Cosette had been the first time he had fought to quash such inequality. And now, seven years later, he was fighting to protect not just two little girls, but the thousands of boys, girls, men, and women in Paris who starved and froze to death on a daily basis.

Enjolras handed the letter back to Eponine. "It has been many years since I have made a paper rose, though I believe I could still do it," he said, unconsciously allowing his strong fingers to graze her dainty ones as he gave her the paper. "But if Cosette is half as in love with Marius as he is with her, I fear for my safety if I were to crinkle her letter."

Eponine laughed brightly and nodded her head in agreement. "They have become quite taken with each other in a very short time," she acknowledged. "But he makes her so happy. I can see in her eyes how content she is after spending an evening with him."

"Marius is the same way," Enjolras commented. "What few times I've seen him since he's met Cosette, he has had a faraway, dreamy look in his eyes. I must admit, I told him off earlier today for skipping our meetings as of late. He's been so infatuated that he's lost track of everything else. I only agreed to drop off this letter because I was on my way to the printer's. Which reminds me, I really must be on my way. We have quite a few leaflets to make this evening."

"Of course," Eponine said, but she could not hide the disappointed look on her face. Enjolras, much to his surprise, picked up on her slight change in expression. Even more to his surprise, he felt guilty for causing said expression.

"I...am glad I agreed to this errand, Eponine," he said awkwardly. "I am pleased I got to see you again."

"And I you," Eponine said, trying to brighten her smile. But she still looked sad, and Enjolras found himself racking his brain for a way to cheer her up, just as he had when she was eight years old.

"Perhaps we might see each other again?" Enjolras said quickly. "I don't have much free time, what with classes and meetings and rallies, but perhaps…"

"Yes," Eponine said, cutting him off mid-sentence. "I would very much like to see you again. But I'm afraid I do not get out much. That is why Marius and Cosette have been meeting here, while I distract Papa."

"I see," Enjolras said, nodding in understanding. He had a vague memory of how angry Eponine's father had become after learning his daughters had gone out unsupervised, and he was not surprised to learn that he still protected them fiercely. "Well, my work this evening should take but a few hours. I expect to be finished shortly before ten o'clock. Would you be able to meet out here again?"

"Of course," Eponine said, not even thinking about the fact that she would have to sneak out without waking her father. "I will be out here promptly at ten. Perhaps you could print an extra leaflet for me. I am anxious to hear all about your noble cause."

If any other girl had said that to Enjolras, he would have brushed it off as a poor attempt at flirtation. But somehow, looking into Eponine's compassionate brown eyes, he fully believed that she did care to hear about his work.

"I will set one aside for you," Enjolras promised, nodding his head courteously. "Until ten o'clock, then."

"Until ten o'clock," Eponine repeated softly, watching as he turned from the gate and headed down the street.

As Enjolras quickly walked away, his mind was a muddle of confused feelings when he should have been focused on his work for the evening. _What is it about this girl? _He thought to himself. _This is twice now she has made me completely forget who I am. I was a sullen, antisocial boy when I met her, yet she touched my heart so much that I comforted her and made her a rose; something I only ever did for my mother. And now I am a political leader with responsibilities of the upmost importance. These leaflets I am making tonight could bring others to our cause, but I am not hurrying because the leaflets are so important. I am hurrying because I want to see her smile once more, and I don't understand why. What is this power she holds over me?_

As she slowly made her way back into the house, Eponine's thoughts were just as jumbled as Enjolras's. Although she had been happy to help her sister find happiness with Marius over the past few weeks, she had been a bit skeptical about how quickly Cosette had developed feelings for the young student. She had attributed it to Cosette's sweet and innocent, if somewhat naïve, personality, but now…why had she become breathless when she realized who Jourdain was? And why on earth had she agreed to meet him well after she was supposed to be in bed? She hadn't made that impetuous of a decision in years, and now she was making one for a boy she hadn't seen for almost half her life.

Eponine wandered into the bedroom, hoping the look of utter confusion on her face wasn't obvious. Valjean was dabbing Cosette's forehead with a cool rag and talking to her gently. When he heard Eponine's footsteps, he turned and gave her a warm smile.

"Eponine, I believe Cosette is ready to get some sleep," he said quietly, giving Cosette a soft kiss on the forehead before standing up. "Would you care to join me in the parlor for a cup of tea? I'm sure you aren't ready to retire yourself."

"Thank you, Papa," Eponine replied, forcing herself to give him a smile. "But I actually am rather tired, and I'm sure Cosette would like some company. If you don't mind, I think I'll read in bed for a bit and go to sleep early."

"Of course, ma ange," Valjean said understandingly, drawing her in for a warm embrace. "Bonne nuit, ma petite Eponine."

Eponine allowed herself to sink into her father's strong arms for a bit longer than usual. She wished with all her heart she could ask him questions about the things she was feeling right now. When she was younger, Papa could solve any problem she was faced with. But she knew that if Papa even suspected that she or Cosette was seeing a boy, they would be lucky if all he did was lock them in their room until he could move them to another country.

So instead of spilling her heart out to her Papa, Eponine gave him a kiss goodnight, which he returned before exiting the room. As soon as the door shut, Eponine turned to her sister and jammed her fists on her hips. "Why didn't you tell me that one of Marius's friends was Jourdain?" she demanded.

"What are you talking about?" Cosette asked groggily, bewildered by her sister's sudden change in mood. "Marius doesn't have a friend named Jourdain."

"Yes, he does," Eponine retorted. "Jourdain Enjolras. He came by this evening to bring you a note from Marius…Marius could not come himself. Why did you never tell me about Jourdain?"

"Why couldn't Marius come? And why in the world would I have told you about…whoever he is?" Cosette asked, pressing her hand to her forehead. All this questioning and answering was making her headache worse.

Eponine rolled her eyes and crossed over to the dresser. Opening the polished wooden music box Papa had given her for her tenth birthday, she extracted a small, faded piece of paper that had been shaped into a tiny rose. Wordlessly, she turned and held out the object for Cosette to see.

Cosette stared at the rose blankly for a moment before realization struck her. Forgetting all about her headache, she shot straight up in bed.

"Jourdain Enjolras," she said breathlessly, gaping at the rose. "How could I have been so stupid?! I should have recognized the name Enjolras…it's not very common, is it? Oh 'Ponine, you saw him again?"

"Briefly," Eponine said, sitting down next to her sister on the bed. "He was on his way to the printers. We only had a moment to talk."

"But still, to see him again after all these years!" Cosette gushed. "Oh 'Ponine, you must be so excited. I know how much you care for him."

"Don't be silly…how could I possibly care for him?" Eponine scoffed, looking down at the quilt to avoid her sister's eyes.

"Don't try to keep secrets from me, Eponine Fauchelevant," Cosette scolded. "You've taken better care of that rose over the past years than you have of Marguerite. I've caught you looking at it before and smiling. You like to tease me for falling in love so quickly with Marius, but you beat me to it seven years ago, whether you'll admit it or not."

"I'm not in love with him!" Eponine protested, finally looking back up at her sister. Cosette let her normally soft blue eyes bore into Eponine's desperate brown ones until the latter finally caved. "At least…I don't think I am," she admitted softly.

Cosette smiled understandingly and put her arm around her sister's shoulders. "I understand just how you feel," she said soothingly. "I didn't know either with Marius. I knew he made me feel something, but I couldn't identify it as love until we had gotten to know each other better. Don't be afraid to open your heart to Jourdain, 'Ponine. It cannot be a coincidence that you've met him again after all these years. Fate must be sending you a sign."

"You are such a hopeless romantic," Eponine scorned. But the tiny smile on her face indicated that she might just agree with her sister. "I'm seeing him again tonight," she confided quietly.

"Tonight?" Cosette said, her mouth dropping open in shock. "How?"

"He's coming back around ten o'clock, after he's finished with his work. I'm going to sneak back outside after Papa goes to bed," Eponine explained, sounding much more confident about the whole situation than she felt.

"Eponine, have you lost your senses?" Cosette demanded. "Do you have any idea how angry Papa would be if you snuck out without him knowing, and after dark? At least he's always known when I was in the garden…he just thought I was unaccompanied."

"Of course I have an idea! Which is why I must take great care that he doesn't find out," Eponine said forcefully. "I know something could go wrong, but I…I want to see him again. I'll be quiet as a mouse, Cosette. I'll climb out through our window so I won't have to go past Papa's room. Will you be alright if I leave it open for a bit? I promise we won't be more than an hour."

"Well it won't do my cold any favors, but I suppose I owe you for all the times you've helped me see Marius," Cosette said with a sigh. "Will you bake me a chocolate cake tomorrow if I agree?"

Eponine laughed and threw her arms around her sister. "I'll make you a chocolate cake every day for a year, ma douce sœur,"she promised, sealing the deal with a kiss to her cheek.

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Cosette warned, but her eyes were merry as she returned the hug. For the next hour or so, the two sisters lay side by side on their bed as they read the letter from Marius and talked about him and Jourdain. Despite the excitement, Cosette soon succumbed to her cold symptoms and fell fast asleep, Marius's letter clutched tightly in her hand. Eponine, for her part, could not have slept even if she wanted to. She lay wide awake, breathing a sigh of relief when she heard Papa's bedroom door close at a quarter past nine, indicating that he had retired for the evening.

When the clock on the mantle displayed five minutes until ten, Eponine slowly crept out of bed, careful not to disturb Cosette. She hadn't bothered to change into her nightdress, deciding that the risk of Papa coming in and wondering why she was still in her everyday gown was worth avoiding the certain impropriety she would display by greeting Jourdain in her nightclothes. Quietly unlatching the window, Eponine hoisted herself over the sill and slipped to the ground with the grace of a cat. She had barely made it halfway across the garden when her heart leapt into her throat. There was Jourdain, his face barely illuminated by a distant street lamp as he hovered close by the gate. Eponine tried to keep herself from smiling broadly as she approached him. She had been experiencing a nagging little voice in her head all evening telling her that he wouldn't come. Seeing that he was not only there, but early, gave her a profound sense of hope and contentment.

Enjolras, for his part, was equally relieved when he noticed Eponine. He had been severely distracted while making the leaflets-fortunately, the printer had already known what he wanted-and he had found himself practically sprinting once or twice as he had come back to Rue Plumet, lest he miss Eponine by a few minutes.

"Good evening again, Mademoiselle Eponine," he said as she silently unlatched the gate.

"I have not changed so much since I was eight, Jourdain," Eponine said with a smile as she led him to the bench. "You may call me 'Ponine as you did back then."

"I suppose then I must allow you to call me Jourdain," Enjolras acquiesced, allowing her to sit before he followed suit. "No one has called me that in years. It will take some getting used to."

"I can certainly refer to you as Enjolras…" Eponine began.

"No no!" Enjolras said, the forcefulness in his voice catching him off guard. "That is not what I meant. You have always known me as Jourdain, and it would not do for you to change your thinking now. I do not mind being called Jourdain. It's just that no one has referred to me by that name since my mother passed."

"Oh Jourdain!" Eponine gasped softly. "I am so sorry to hear about your mother. When did she pass?"

Enjolras stared at her blankly for a moment, not fully registering what had just happened. He had not spoken of his mother in years, not even to his closest friends. Yet he had just blurted out a full sentence about her to Eponine. "Erm…about three years ago," he said, swallowing hard as he finally collected himself. "Rheumatic fever. We could not afford proper medicine."

"Oh Jourdain," Eponine said softly, her eyes welling with tears. She tentatively reached out to touch his arm lightly. Enjolras felt his blood start pounding in his ears as the sensation of her touch overwhelmed him. He was unused to this kind of intimacy. He did not know how to return it, but it wouldn't do to sit there and say nothing.

"Erm…here," he said finally, reaching into his satchel and producing a piece of paper. "I saved you a leaflet, just as I promised."

Eponine sensed his discomfort and obligingly took her hand off of his arm as she accepted the paper. Scanning over it, she realized it was a memorandum about starving children who were forced into slave labor. She bit her lip hard as she read the descriptions of children wasting away to nothing as they were abused and left to die, and before she realized it, she was crying.

Panicked at the sight of her tears, Enjolras all but yanked the paper out of her hands. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "I should have warned you…the things we write about are not cheerful in the least. I should never have let you read it. I was foolish…"

"No no, I'm sorry," Eponine said, hastily wiping her eyes with the corner of her sleeve. "It's silly of me to cry. It's just…it made me remember."

"Remember what?" Enjolras asked curiously.

Eponine took a deep breath and stared down at her hands. "I haven't always lived with my Papa," she began softly. "When I was a little girl, my mother could not take care of my sister and I. She left us with an innkeeper man and his wife, and paid for them to take care of us. But the innkeeper was cruel, and his wife even worse. They took all the money my mother sent for themselves, and used Cosette and I as their slaves. They beat us and starved us regularly, and dressed us in rags. If Papa had not come and adopted us when we were seven, we probably would both be dead by now."

"Oh 'Ponine," Enjolras said, leaning down so he could try to see her eyes. When she would not look at him, he drew a nervous breath and cautiously placed his hand on top of her folded ones. She quickly looked up and met his sympathetic glance.

"I am truly sorry that you had to go through that, 'Ponine,' Enjolras said passionately. "I am so grateful your father was there to rescue you. I will not speak of such things again, you have my word. I am sorry for causing you so much distress."

"Do not apologize," Eponine said, her voice quiet but firm. "I wish to hear about your work, all of it, and to help you in any way I can. For four years, there was no one to fight for me. And now there are hundreds of children just like me who think they are all alone. But you are fighting for them with no thought for yourself. You are truly a noble man, Jourdain Enjolras. Thank you."

And in that moment, both Eponine and Enjolras understood the power the other had over them. She was the face of all that he fought for, and he was the face of all that she hoped for.

_Ma douce sœur-my sweet sister_

**Ta Da! All I can say is I hope it met everyone's expectations. And if it didn't, I don't want to know about it-I'm nervous enough as it is. Coming up next: fate intervenes and gives Cosette and Eponine the opportunity to see their Barricade boys outside of their home. Which is good because it's about time they met the rest of the Les Amis, don't you think? Thanks for reading!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Hey guys! Sorry this chapter is so late…right as classes ended, I came down with a case of pneumonia, so I've been struggling just to stay alive this past week. Before I knew it the time had just run away from me. But I'm doing much better now and in a very Les Mis mood since I just saw the show on stage for my ninth time!**

**So, the last batch of reviews was incredible, as always! But frankly, all the concern about how I'm going to portray Enjolras made me really nervous and made the writing process go a lot slower. I finally came to the conclusion that this is an AU fic, so technically I could have Enjolras fall for Javert if I wanted to. I won't…but I could. Enjolras is really a blank slate the way Hugo wrote him, so I'm interpreting him how I see him in this particular set of circumstances, and just because you've viewed him differently doesn't mean he's out of character. He's out of character by the mere fact that he's even considering romance. So some of you probably aren't going to think that he's perfect the way I write him, but just roll with it, ok? It's still going to be a good story regardless :) **

**Before we get on to the next chapter, I've got a question for all of you. I've told you guys before, but I'm writing another Les Mis fic called "Beyond the Blitz". There's a full description on my profile, but it will be a WWII fic involving all the Les Amis as children, and it will eventually be Valtine. My question for you guys is: would you rather I work Blitz and Tresors at the same time, with updates alternating every week, or would you rather I finish Tresors first? I'm 99% sure I know how this poll is going to turn out, but I want to be sure. So please either PM me your response or tell me in your review, and enjoy this next chapter!**

_September 29, 1831_

"Absolutely not," Valjean said firmly, trying as hard as he could to look imposing while leaning back on the couch with his leg propped up on two cushions. Just two days ago, he had slipped on a muddy patch while repairing the shed window and sprained his knee. It wouldn't have been a bad injury for a younger man, but Valjean was fifty-five years old, and at long last he was beginning to feel it.

"Papa, be reasonable," Eponine pleaded. "The doctor said that your knee won't be healed completely for six weeks. It's going to be difficult enough for you to get around the house on crutches. You certainly can't walk through town on them."

"I am not suggesting that I go into town," Valjean retorted. "But I am suggesting-no, I am insisting-that you and your sister are not going into town either. And that is final, young lady."

Eponine's face tightened into a frustrated scowl, and Cosette took the opportunity to step in before her father and sister became angry with each other. Eponine could push Papa's buttons when she wanted to, and it wouldn't do for him to lose his temper and stand up on his bad knee without thinking. Besides, if their plan was going to work, they couldn't afford to antagonize Papa.

"Papa, 'Ponine is right," Cosette said calmly. "We certainly cannot survive the next six weeks without going into town for food and supplies, and it would be most impractical to hire someone to deliver food to us. I know how you dislike strangers coming to the house."

"It's not as though Cosette and I don't know our way around, Papa," Eponine interjected, cutting off Valjean before he could start to argue Cosette's point. "We've been into town with you hundreds of times. We know the shortest routes, and we're familiar with all the shops. We can get the shopping done and be home well before it begins to get dark. Please Papa, don't you trust us?" she asked sweetly, giving him an angelic smile.

In spite of himself, Valjean felt his furrowed eyebrows begin to relax as his daughters attempted to convince him. They were right; he did not want some delivery boy regularly coming to the house and possibly spreading stories about the man who lived secluded with his teenaged daughters. It was not likely that Javert would hear said stories, but anything was possible, and Valjean certainly wasn't taking any chances after all these years. Still, his two little girls walking alone on the streets of Paris? The last time that had occurred, they had almost been attacked by a street gang. But they were much younger then, he reminded himself, and they were in a dangerous part of town. The area with the shops they frequented was quite safe. Valjean wrestled with the idea in his mind for several minutes. Finally, he sighed deeply and looked at his children with narrowed eyes.

"You will go straight into town," Valjean said sternly, though there was a hint of reluctant defeat in his voice from being cajoled by his daughters. "You will only go into the shops that carry the things we need-the grocer's, the apothecary, the baker's. You will not stop anywhere else-not the dress shop, not the bookstore. You will be home by suppertime, and not a moment later. If you disobey any of my instructions, there will be severe consequences. Do I make myself absolutely clear?"

"Perfectly clear, Papa," Cosette promised, coming over to give him a kiss. Eponine followed suit, throwing her arms around Valjean's neck and kissing the top of his head.

"You stay here and rest, Papa," Eponine instructed, resting her chin on his shoulder for a moment. "Cosette and I will be back before supper with some medicine for you and plenty of good food."

Before the girls could leave to fetch their wraps and shopping baskets, Valjean caught each of them by the hand. "Be careful," he said quietly, his voice expressing a combination of a command and a plea.

Both girls felt a slight twinge of guilt at the deep concern in his eyes, but they hid it well. "We will be, Papa," Eponine promised, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "Don't you fret."

As the girls fetched their things and headed out the door with a wave through the window, Valjean felt his breath catch in his chest. In nearly eight years, he had never watched his daughters walk away from the safety of their home without him. With a soft sigh, he reached over to the side table and picked up his worn, leather-bound Bible. He surely wasn't going to get any sleep while his daughters were away from the house, but perhaps he could find some solace in the comforting words of scripture.

As soon as the girls had turned the corner and were out of sight of their house, Eponine breathed a huge sigh of relief. "I cannot believe that actually worked," she said, shaking her head in disbelief.

Cosette looked worriedly over her shoulder as though she wanted to run back. "'Ponine, I feel terrible…I know that technically I've been disobeying Papa all along by seeing Marius, but this is different. He's so worried about letting us go into town alone, and he specifically told us not to go anywhere but the shops. Should we really disobey him?"

Eponine sighed and linked her arm through her sister's. "I'm not happy about it either," she admitted. "I hate deceiving Papa, you know that. But Cosette, you've barely seen Marius at all these past few weeks, and I can see how miserable it's been making you. This is the perfect opportunity for you two to see each other without fear of getting caught. I'm not happy that Papa hurt himself, but we might as well take advantage of the situation."

"You're right," Cosette agreed. "I have missed Marius terribly…I've only seen him twice since the evening I was ill. And you haven't ever heard from Jourdain…"

"Cosette, for the last time, we're not going to the Café Musain so I can see Jourdain," Eponine said in exasperation. "Yes, we had a lovely conversation together. But he's extremely busy with his work, and he's hardly looking for romance."

"'Ponine, from what Marius has told me of Jourdain, the mere fact that he said two words to you indicates that he has an interest in you," Cosette said emphatically. "And I don't care what you say…you're looking forward to seeing him again. You're not as discreet as you think you are when you look at that rose. And I've caught you reading that pamphlet of his early in the morning when you think I'm still asleep. So don't try and pretend that…"

"Alright!" Eponine interjected, blushing furiously as they strolled down the streets. "Yes, I am looking forward to seeing him again. But I have no way of knowing he'll be happy to see me. When we walk into that café, Marius is going to trip over himself trying to get to you. But Jourdain…he might not be happy to have me intruding on his life, especially when he's at work."

"'Ponine, he took time out of his evening of work to come talk to you," Cosette reminded her. "You two were out there until well after midnight, and you were the one who finally had to end the conversation. Jourdain may be a bit more…reserved than Marius. But I believe that he harbors feelings for you, and my suspicions will be confirmed when he sees you today," she added confidently.

"Your suspicions will only be confirmed if you can tear your eyes away from Marius for more than two seconds," Eponine retorted with a smirk. Cosette blushed gracefully and elbowed her sister slightly as they continued into town.

Hurried on by their anxiousness, the two girls finished their weekly shop in about half the time it usually took them, and that was when they had Papa's help. Before long, they were wandering the streets of Paris, in search of the Café Musain.

"Marius said it was off of Rue de Rivoli," Cosette said doubtfully. "But I never asked how far down it was…I never thought we'd have the opportunity to go there."

"Perhaps we can ask a shopkeeper," Eponine said, shifting her basket from her right arm to her left. "One of them most have heard of Café Musain."

"Not t'worry girlies, I can take ya to Musain!" A loud voice complete with a street accent called from the closest side alley. Eponine nearly dropped her basket in surprise at being overheard and Cosette gasped slightly as she whirled around to face the eavesdropper. Much to their relief, the voice did not come from some back alley beggar…at least, not a fully grown one. Eponine and Cosette looked down into the bright green eyes of a boy no more than 8 years old. His clothes were threadbare and his hair was a frightfully dirty mop, but none of that seemed to bother him as he gazed up at the girls with an impish grin.

"No need t'look like cats backed in a corner. I ain't no wolf," the boy said cheekily, coming closer and holding out his hand in greeting. "'Ow d'ya do, then? My name's Gavroche."

Eponine recovered first and shifted her parcels so she could accept Gavroche's handshake. She didn't even noticed how dirty his little palm was; she was too entranced by his effervescent personality. "How do you do, Gavroche?" she responded politely. "My name is Eponine, and this is my sister Cosette."

Gavroche's eyes widened and he turned quickly to stare at Cosette. "Are you _the _Cosette?" he asked incredulously. "Marius's Cosette?"

Cosette instantly turned as red as a cherry, causing Eponine to giggle. "Um…yes," Cosette admitted. "I suppose I am…Marius's Cosette."

"Blimey!" Gavroche crowed, grabbing her hand and shaking it heartily before she knew what was happening. "So that's why you lot are looking for Musain! Well, we better hurry and get ya there quick like. Marius's been in a right state for the past couple o'weeks, not having seen ya an' all. 'E just sits 'round mopin' til Enj' gives him 'n earful or 'Taire slips 'im a drink. But now I've gotcha and I'll take ya to 'im so ya can put 'im outta 'is misery."

Poor Cosette was looking completely flustered and mortified, but Eponine laughed brightly, thoroughly enjoying the young boy's company. "Thank you, Gavroche," she replied, before leaning down towards him. "Between you and me, Cosette's been in something of a state herself," she whispered conspiratorially. "I'm very grateful that you arrived to help me reunite her with Marius so she'll stop sighing."

"Eponine!" Cosette cried indignantly. "I have not been sighing…"

"Oh Cosette, he knows I'm teasing," Eponine said, giving Gavroche a good-natured wink which he happily returned. "Now, Monsieur Gavroche, will you kindly lead the way? It's well after noon, and Cosette and I must be home by supper."

"Sure thing, Eponine," Gavroche said cheerfully. "Follow me!"

The young gamin led the two girls through the winding streets of Paris, chatting happily all the way. He proudly pointed out a crumbling statue of an elephant which he claimed to call home. Cosette was slightly horrified; she had passed that statue dozens of times, but never knew that there were children living in it. But Eponine grinned as Gavroche told all about the adventures he had in his rundown abode, taking pleasure in how carefree the little boy was.

Before they knew it, Gavroche had led them down a quiet side street, where a small café stood out prominently on the street corner.

"'Ere y'are girlies," Gavroche said, opening the door and gesturing in with a flourish. "The one and only Café Musain."

Eponine and Cosette cautiously stepped into the doorway and looked around the humble kitchen. "Are you sure this is the right place, Gavroche?" Eponine asked concernedly. "There doesn't seem to be anyone here."

"Sure I'm sure!" Gavroche said indignantly, as though it was an insult to him to be questioned. "Musain ain't open t'formal customers on Mondays, but the owner lets the boys use the place anyway. S'long as 'Taire promises to bring 'is own wine. Otherwise it'd all be gone 'fore Tuesday!"

A loud, raucous laugh from upstairs proved that Gavroche was right, and someone was indeed present. The laugh didn't sound like Marius's to Cosette, and Eponine frankly couldn't imagine that Enjolras would ever laugh so heartily. But Gavroche clearly recognized the sound, because his face broke out into a huge grin as he pushed past the girls.

"C'mon then!" he said boisterously, clamoring up the stairs two at a time. Cosette looked nervously at Eponine, who gave her a smile in return and grasped her sister's hand as they began to ascend the stairs.

"Gavroche!" They heard a voice cry enthusiastically as they made their ascent. As they turned the corner of the staircase, they found that the voice belonged to a cheerful looking young man with dark hair almost as curly as Enjolras's.

"Courf!" Gav returned, allowing the young man to pick him up and swing him around. "Look what I found wandering the streets!"

Courfeyrac looked toward the staircase and saw the two girls; one looking shy and awkward, the other looking curious and bright-eyed. "Who do we have here?" he asked politely, though his eyes showed a hint of confusion at the presence of women who were not bar maids showing their faces in Café Musain. Before Gavroche or either of the girls could answer, a voice shouted in disbelief from across the room.

"Cosette!" Marius cried, his face lighting up like a little boy at Christmas as he sprinted across the room. Eponine quickly grabbed Cosette's basket as Marius darted forward and clasped Cosette's hand in his own. "Cosette, my darling! What on earth are you doing here?" he asked breathlessly, touching his free hand to her cheek.

"Marius!" Cosette replied rapturously, her earlier awkwardness gone as she smiled at the boy who had stolen her heart. She was so happy to see him that she did not bother to answer his question, but Marius did not seem to notice, as they were both equally entranced with each other's eyes. After a few moments during which everyone who wasn't part of the happy couple stood around and stared at each other awkwardly, a serious looking young man with sandy hair walked over towards Eponine.

"Please, let me help you with those, Mademoiselle," the boy said politely, taking both of the heavy baskets from Eponine and placing them on a nearby table. "My name is Combeferre. I presume you are Cosette's sister? Marius rarely speaks of anything but Cosette, but he did mention in passing that she was a twin."

Eponine smiled warmly and accepted Combeferre's offered handshake. "Yes, I am Cosette's sister," she replied. "My name is Eponine. And this is Cosette, in case anyone was confused," she added cheekily, placing a hand on her sister's shoulder. Two or three of the boys chuckled, and Marius and Cosette both looked up with a start.

"Oh…forgive me!" Cosette apologized, flushing as she noticed that Marius was not the only person present in the room. "How do you do, everyone?"

"There's nothing to forgive, Cosette," Combeferre assured her with a smile. "Marius's smiles have been few and far between since he last saw you, so we are all grateful for your presence. And we're delighted to meet you as well, Eponine."

Before any of the other students could step forward and introduce themselves, the sound of a slamming door gave them all cause to turn towards the stairwell. Eponine's heart leapt into her chest at the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs; it had not escaped her notice that one face was prominently absent from the room.

"Alright," Enjolras said briskly, coming off the landing with a stack of papers in his hand. "The new leaflets are ready for distribution. Let's go over the map of the city and decide where the best places are to hand them out. Joly, can you get…Eponine?" he asked, his normally calm voice betraying a hint of shock as he noticed the girl standing by the stairwell.

Eponine's heart raced as she tried to interpret the look on Enjolras's face. He did not look displeased to see her, but he certainly looked surprised, and she was sure that was not an emotion he wanted to display to his compatriots. Before she could respond to him, the boy standing with Gavroche-Courfeyrac, she thought-cleared his throat pointedly.

"You two are acquainted, then?" he asked, trying to sound polite, but unable to mask the deep-seated curiosity that he and everyone else in the room clearly felt.

Enjolras turned slightly pale, and Eponine quickly intervened to save him from what was sure to be an awkward explanation. "Oh, Enjolras stopped by to deliver a letter from Marius to Cosette several weeks ago," she explained, managing to keep her composure. "I met him outside our home to retrieve it, and he was kind enough to take the time to explain the work of l'ABC to me. I must say, all of you are quite inspiring. I can't imagine how you manage your studies and your political work all at the same time."

"Well, with a leader as firm and driven as Enjolras, we hardly have a choice," Courfeyrac said good-naturedly, clapping his blonde friend on the shoulder before grabbing the pamphlets from him. "Come on lads, let's get these sorted out for distribution." Within an instant, the room was full of chatter again as the students went back to work, apparently placated by Eponine's casual explanation of how she and Enjolras were acquainted. Only a lone figure sitting by the window with a half empty bottle of wine in his hand kept his focus on Enjolras as he finally spoke to Eponine.

"It is good to see you again, 'Ponine," Enjolras said, causing the young girl's heart to soar at the sound of her nickname. "I'm terribly sorry, but we have a great deal of work to do. I'm afraid I don't really have the time…"

"Please, do not mind me," Eponine interrupted, giving him a smile and barely stopping herself from touching his arm in reassurance. "My Papa is laid up with a knee injury, so my sister and I are doing the weekly shop by ourselves. I only came so Cosette could see Marius. Though I am glad to see you as well," she said quickly, when she noticed Enjolras's eyes dim ever so slightly. "But I would never dream of impeding your work. Please, do what you have to do, and let me know if there is anything I can do to help."

"Thank you," Enjolras said sincerely, allowing himself the barest hint of a smile. He knew from seeing his friends interact with various ladies that most young girls would be offended if they were not the center of a young man's attention. But Eponine truly did not seem to mind. Her eyes were bright and earnest as she offered to help him, and Enjolras once again felt that strange feeling that she always seemed to bring out in him.

"Actually, there is something we could use your help with," Enjolras continued. He hesitated for a moment before gingerly taking her arm and leading her over to a corner table covered with scraps of red, white and blue fabric. "We'd like to make cockades and sashes to start distributing to the public so they can show their support for the cause. However, none of us are very adept at sewing. I remember you mentioning the other week that you quite enjoy needle work?"

Eponine practically beamed with pride at hearing that he remembered part of their conversation from many weeks ago. "I do indeed," she said eagerly. "You go supervise your boys and leave me to the sewing. I'll have a bundle of cockades ready for you in no time. I'm happy that there is a way I can help."

"Thank you, 'Ponine," Enjolras said, allowing himself to give her a real smile since his back was turned to his friends. Reluctantly, he removed his hand from her arm and pulled out a chair for her. "Let me know if you require anything at all."

"I shall," Eponine said, returning his smile before picking up a needle and going straight to work. Enjolras let his eyes linger on her nimble fingers for a moment before turning his attention back to the task at hand.

"Marius!" Enjolras barked, coming up behind his younger friend, who had not moved from his spot by the staircase as he and Cosette spoke softly to each other. "I realize you are happy to see your beloved…and it is good to see you again, Cosette," he added cordially, eliciting a warm smile from the blonde haired girl. "But do you think you might be able to spend time together and still manage to work?"

"Yes…of course, Enjolras," Marius said quickly, flashing his friend a grateful look. He briefly wondered at Enjolras's generosity…under ordinary circumstances, he wouldn't have put it past the strong-willed Apollo to order Cosette out of the café entirely. "Cosette, darling, would you like to help me fold letters to send to our supporters in the villages on the outskirts of Paris?"

"Of course," Cosette said, the happy look in her eyes indicating that she would have gone swimming in the Seine had Marius asked. "Thank you for allowing me to stay, Enjolras," she added, touching the sleeve of the leader's red jacket in gratitude.

Enjolras nodded his head politely. "Of course, Cosette," he replied. "Just see that you keep Marius to his task…heaven knows I'm scarcely able to do it."

"Don't you worry about a thing," Cosette said seriously, fixing Marius with a mock glare. "I won't allow him to be lazy." Marius smiled happily back at her as he led her to another table covered in papers. After watching them both for a moment, Enjolras spared himself a quick glance back towards Eponine, and allowed himself to consider that having the Fauchelevant girls around might do his revolution more good than harm.

**Ok, I hope that was alright…I was really nervous about this chapter. Writing with a bunch of characters is a lot harder than writing with just a couple. I know I made Gavroche sound British, but that's how I've heard him in my head since the movie. Coming up next: a little bit more Enjonine, plus some bonding between the Les Amis and the girls before they head home to a very worried and agitated Valjean. Thanks for reading!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Hey guys! I'm so sorry this is so late…I couldn't believe it when I realized I last published back in April! But between finals and moving to Chicago to start my internship, I just haven't had the time. Plus, I just really struggled with this chapter. I've discovered I much prefer writing chapters with only two or three characters in them. Writing for all of the boys along with my regular characters was really a struggle! The chapters may come more slowly now that I've got so many characters to juggle (though hopefully not as slowly as this last one). Not every boy appears prominently in this chapter, but I promise that before the end of the story, each boy will have at least one scene dedicated to him. I know we all have our favorites, so I will try to accommodate everyone :) Based on the last set of reviews and my own personal thoughts, I'm going to wait until after this story is done before publishing Beyond the Blitz. I don't want to cheat myself or you guys on either story. I really hope you all will read Blitz once it's published, though-I'm really excited for it!**

**I do have two quick favors to ask: I adore all of you for leaving me such great reviews, and I'm always happy to talk to you about my story or answer questions. But first favor, please remember that this story is an AU. Hence, if I write a character differently from the brick/musical, or change something like their age or appearance, it's completely intentional and not a mistake. I'm perfectly cognizant of what I'm writing, and just because it doesn't exactly conform to your standards or the book's does not make it an error. So please stop jumping all over stuff like that because it's irritating. If I get another review like that, I'm having Marius leave Cosette for Javert. Second favor, for the love of Les Mis, PLEASE stop flooding my inbox asking me to update. I know just as well as you do how long it's been between updates, and it's not like I'm specifically choosing not to update. It's fine to send me one message asking how I'm doing and how's the next chapter coming along; it's an entirely different matter to send me multiple messages within a week that are more or less harassing me. That doesn't make me want to update, it just makes me frustrated. So please, if you really care about this story, stop doing it. On that note, please keep reviewing…your reviews mean more to me than you can ever know!**

**One more thing: If you haven't yet, go check out Fanpire101's story Ma Fleur Rebelle ASAP! It's so incredible, and she's just getting to the juicy stuff! So as a favor to me and as a favor to yourself, go read and review it! Without further ado, here are some more of the barricade boys :)**

Though the presence of two young ladies was certainly a novelty at Café Musain, the gathering of Les Amis de l'ABC passed by quite peacefully for the first hour or so. Cosette and Marius happily folded letter after letter, though at least half of the students wondered how they were possibly folding them evenly as they did not take their eyes from each other for less than five seconds. Enjolras, for his part, directed his comrades through their various tasks as he worked on composing a speech for an upcoming rally. The passionate words flowed from his pen as easily as they always did, though he did find himself momentarily distracted as he looked up to subtly check on the dark-haired girl sitting at a table in the corner. Eponine was diligently sewing sashes as he had requested, but her eyes did wander over to meet his for one moment about an hour after she had started. The two stared at each other for a minute until Eponine offered Enjolras a tentative smile before ducking her head back down. Enjolras felt his collar grow tighter; a sensation he wasn't used to feeling, and he tugged at it uncomfortably before resuming his work.

Eponine smiled discreetly as she began another sash. She knew how important Enjolras's work was to him, and the fact that he had taken his eyes from his speech for even a second to look at her told her much more than he could say with words. She didn't quite know what to make of her relationship with Enjolras, if it could even be called a relationship. He certainly didn't fawn over her as Marius did over Cosette; though frankly, Eponine would have been a little alarmed if any boy paid half that much attention to her. But there was something in Enjolras's eyes when he watched her…she couldn't identify it, but she knew it was something out of the ordinary. As Eponine painstakingly stitched together two scraps of silk and mulled over Enjolras's entrancing eyes, she heard a slight creak from the table behind her. Glancing up, she was taken aback to spot Gavroche rustling through her groceries and slipping a fresh baguette into his jacket.

"Gavroche!" Eponine cried without thinking, dropping the half-finished cockade as she jumped from her chair. All of the students and Cosette turned at the sound of her cry, and Courfeyrac was on his feet in an instant when he realized what his little friend was doing.

"Gavroche!" Courfeyrac said angrily, crossing towards Gavroche in three strides and grasping him firmly by the arm. "What do you think you're doing? Put that back and apologize, right now!"

"Courf!" Gavroche said indignantly, trying to yank away as Courfeyrac shook him slightly. "C'moff it! You've seen me steal food all the time an' you've never gone off 'alf-cocked 'fore!"

"That's different," Courfeyrac scolded, ceasing the shaking but maintaining his grip on Gavroche's skinny arm. "I've seen you steal from those fine, fancy hotels that overstuff their rich clientele and refuse to throw scraps to the beggars. I'd rather you didn't have to, but you need to eat and that lot can more than afford it. Plus it serves them right after the way they treat the starving children on the streets. But Eponine and Cosette are our friends. It's dishonorable to steal from your friends, and from ladies to boot. We can't have dishonorable lads working for Les Amis. Now put it back, right now."

Gavroche refused to hang his head as he shoved the baguette back into the basket, but everyone in the room could see some of the usual brightness in his eyes go dark. Gavroche had a good relationship with all of Les Amis, even solemn Enjolras. But he looked to Courfeyrac as an older brother, and to be cajoled by his closest friend was most unusual.

Once the baguette was safely back in its rightful place, Courfeyrac put his arm around Gavroche's shoulder and led him over to Eponine. "Gav?" he said simply, giving the boy a gentle push forward.

Gavroche did finally look down when face to face with Eponine, and he scuffed his toe into the hardwood floor as he apologized. "Sorry, 'Ponine," he mumbled.

Whatever irritation Eponine had been feeling had melted away when she heard Courfeyrac refer to her and Cosette as "friends." And really, Gavroche was so delightfully charming that she was hardly angry with him to begin with.

"It's alright, Gavroche," Eponine assured him, ruffling his hair for good measure. "I'm not angry…you just startled me. You could have asked for some food if you were hungry, you know."

"I don' need char'ty," Gavroche said, looking up and folding his arms stubbornly across his chest.

"It's not charity if you've already given me something. Or did you forget that you helped Cosette and I find our way here?" Eponine pointed out, reaching into the small purse tied at her waist. Producing a 20 sous piece, she tossed it to the little boy, who caught it on instinct. "Payment for a service well-done. Now go buy yourself a nice savory meat pie…one that will fill you up for the rest of the day."

Gavroche studied the coin for a moment, then looked back up at Eponine and broke out into his customary grin. "My pleasure, 'Ponine!" he said cheerfully, the drama of the previous minute all but forgotten. Before he could dash for the stairs, Courfeyrac grabbed him the shoulder again.

"Before you go gallivanting off, there's someone else you need to apologize to," Courfeyrac said, nodding in Cosette's direction. Anxious to go spend his treasure, Gavroche hurried to do his friend's bidding and galloped over to Cosette, who smiled fondly as he approached.

Courfeyrac turned back to Eponine, his eyes twinkling. "20 sous will buy quite a bit more than one meat pie," he commented, leaning casually against a chair as he studied her.

"Oh, will it?" Eponine asked, feigning innocence. "I don't really get out much; I'm not at all familiar with current prices," she said, giving Courfeyrac a subtle wink.

Courfeyrac chuckled slightly, and then his merry brown eyes grew serious. "Thank you," he said seriously. "We try to do as much as we can to help Gavroche, but he's very stubborn, as you saw. And none of us are exactly wealthy…we live from day to day ourselves."

"I understand," Eponine said empathetically. "I'll do whatever I can to help him…I'm sure I can come up with some ways to con him into accepting money or food. He's such a delightful boy; I think I've already grown to care for him in this single afternoon."

"He does have that effect on people," Courfeyrac said fondly, looking over his shoulder as Gavroche shot down the stairs after apologizing to Cosette. "He lives a frightful life, but he's such a cheerful little lad. I care for him as though he were my own brother."

"I've often wondered what it would have been like to have a little brother," Eponine said wistfully. "I love living with my sister and my Papa, but sometimes I dream of living in a house filled to the brim with brothers and sisters, all causing trouble."

"Well, I don't think your father would be pleased if all of us moved in, but when you're here, you may consider us the brothers you never had," Courfeyrac said, taking her hand and giving it a quick kiss. Eponine laughed and went to give him a friendly embrace.

"Courfeyrac!" Enjolras called sharply as the pair hugged. "I need you to finish sorting these leaflets right away!"

Courfeyrac let Eponine go, a bit taken aback by his friend's stern voice. As he looked over towards the blonde haired leader, he was surprised to notice a flash of something remarkably similar to jealousy shining in Enjolras's eyes. Giving Eponine a quick glance of wonder, Courfeyrac shrugged his shoulders and went back to his own table to work.

While Eponine was giving Enjolras secret glances from across the room, Cosette was smiling sweetly at Marius as he finished off the last of the letters. Her hand was placed discreetly on the table close enough to his arm that his wrist brushed against her fingers on occasion as he poured wax onto the papers and stamped them with a metal seal. She opened her mouth to say something to him as he worked, but before she could, she was struck with a violent coughing fit.

Marius promptly dropped the seal and turned worriedly towards the girl, but before he could do anything, Joly rushed across the room and shoved a linen handkerchief into Cosette's face.

"Here Mademoiselle," Joly said, looking quite flustered. "Cough into this. It will prevent the germs from spreading."

Cosette accepted that handkerchief and finished her coughing fit into the fine white cloth. "Thank you," she said gratefully, handing the handkerchief back to the young man with a smile. Her kind expression was not returned as Joly took two steps back and waved her hand away, indicating that he did not wish to accept his own handkerchief.

"I'm sure there's nothing to worry about," Cosette said, her sweet voice faltering a bit at Joly's nervous expression. She vaguely remembered Marius telling her that Joly was constantly worried about illness. "I just inhaled a bit too much dust…we keep our house impossibly tidy, I'm afraid, so even the slightest bit of dust in the air bothers me."

"That may be, but I do not wish to take any chances," Joly said soberly. "I heard there was a bout of whooping cough spreading in one of the villages outside of Paris. And influenza can be quite deadly in the summer. Why, I was just reading a case the other day where a girl not much younger than you thought she had breathed in too much pollen, and two days later she died of…"

"Joly!" Marius practically shouted, embarrassed by the actions of his friend as he watched Cosette's expression melt into one of alarm. Before he could launch into a tirade against the young medical student, Combeferre came over to everyone's rescue.

"There will be no talk of medical texts today, Joly," Combeferre said jovially, giving his friend a slight push back to his work station. "Especially not while there is a lady present. Do not fear, my friend, I feel certain that Mademoiselle Cosette will take great care not to spread whatever germs she may or may not have.

"Please, forgive Joly," Combeferre said to Cosette after he was done placating his friend. "He's a bit of a hypochondriac, I'm afraid. I fear that studying medicine has made him see false symptoms wherever he roams."

"Oh it's quite alright," Cosette said, gathering her wits once more. "Marius has explained to me about Joly's…interesting behavior. But…there's no chance that he's right, is there?" she asked worriedly. "I couldn't possibly have caught whooping cough or…"

"Not to worry, Cosette," Combeferre soothed. "I dabble a bit in medical studies myself, and you seem to me to be as healthy as can be. You have a glow in your cheeks that can only be present on a healthy young woman. Or a woman in love," he added with a wink before turning away.

Cosette blushed deeply and looked at Marius shyly from underneath her eyelashes. He returned her sweet smile and, after a moment, went back to sealing the letters, though he allowed his wrist to make contact with her hand as often as possible.

Eponine had missed Cosette's fit of coughing and Joly's subsequent intervention as she was still hard at work. She was immersed in finishing off yet another sash when she felt someone approach her. Taking the chair across from her and setting down his nearly empty bottle, Grantaire placed his elbows on the table and fixed her with a steady gaze.

Eponine met his eyes and was a bit taken aback by the intensity she saw there. "Hello," she said tentatively, when the young man did not speak. "You're Grantaire, right?"

Grantaire gave her a small, somewhat polite smile and nodded. "And you're Eponine," he said simply, not averting his gaze.

"I am," Eponine said, feeling somewhat vulnerable at the quiet scrutiny she saw in Grantaire's dark eyes. "So…what are you working on at the moment?" she asked awkwardly. "Are you going to help distribute posters?"

Grantaire's mouth turned up into a half smirk as he downed the rest of his bottle in one long draught. "Not likely," he said finally, setting the bottle back on the table with a thud. "I am not much use for menial tasks such as that. I have no interest in it."

"So, you are more dedicated to the study of politics and social change?" Eponine tried again, finally placing her needlework to the side. She certainly couldn't concentrate with Grantaire's full attention focused on her.

"Not hardly," Grantaire replied, his expression remaining unchanged. "I find the thought of Revolution to be quite displeasing, to be perfectly honest."

"Then…why exactly are you here?" Eponine asked. She blushed as she realized the forwardness of her question, but the young man across from her did not seem to be bothered.

Grantaire was silent for a moment as his eyes wandered towards Enjolras, who discussing one of the points of his speech with Combeferre. "I suppose we all need something to believe in," he said finally. He kept his gaze on his leader for a few more seconds before changing his focus back to Eponine. "Enjolras most of all," he said, as though he was pondering some stunning revelation. Eponine felt her breath catch in her throat as this young man who claimed to have a distinct lack of interest in just about everything studied her with great interest etched onto his face.

Enjolras glanced over the top of his paper and saw Grantaire engaging Eponine in conversation, and he felt a wave of panic sweep over him. He didn't know what Grantaire was saying to Eponine, but odds are he was saying something undeniably inappropriate. It had never bothered Enjolras in the past when Grantaire spoke with women; he had found it to be a bit of a nuisance, but not upsetting in any way. But he felt a strong desire to protect Eponine from any sort of…indecent behavior.

"Grantaire!" Enjolras barked, shoving his speech into a bewildered Combeferre's hands. "Put that bottle down and get back over here! It's going on five o'clock and we must be distributing the leaflets before the citizens head home for supper."

"Supper!" Cosette gasped, jumping from her seat and nearly clocking Marius in the head, as he had been leaning close to whisper in her ear. "'Ponine, we have to go! We promised Papa we would be home before supper!"

"You're right," Eponine said briskly, abandoning her sewing and beginning to gather the groceries. "You and Marius say your goodbyes, and we'll be on our way." In spite of herself, Eponine glanced over her shoulder to see if Enjolras noticed the fact that she was leaving.

Enjolras did notice, and while Marius and Cosette were embracing and sharing secret words of affection, he made his way over to the brown-haired beauty. Unsure of what to say, as he could feel no less than half a dozen pairs of curious eyes boring a hole into the back of his neck, he finally averted his gaze over to Eponine's work station.

"The sashes and cockades are wonderful, Eponine," Enjolras said. "If there is any way I can repay you…"

"I do not want payment, sir," Eponine said quickly, before hesitating slightly. "Though…perhaps, if it is not too much trouble, I might come again? Those won't last you more than a day or two and I…well, I greatly enjoyed coming."

Enjolras felt an unexpected feeling of lightness when Eponine expressed her desire to come back. "You could never be any trouble, 'Ponine," he said softly. "And I…I greatly enjoyed having you here as well. Please come whenever you can. We could use your help...and your presence," he added in an even quieter voice.

Eponine felt her cheeks grow warm at his words, and as Cosette came up to tug her away, she gave him a shy smile. "We will need to fetch groceries again before the week is out," she said. "So I shall see you soon…Jourdain," she added with a whisper.

Enjolras did not even get to say goodbye before a flustered Cosette whisked her sister down the stairs. Waiting until Eponine's shining brown head was fully out of sight, he turned back to his comrades, who were all staring at him. None of them had ever seen Enjolras acknowledge a lady's presence, and here they had just witnessed him have his second conversation with one in a matter of hours. Enjolras let his eyes pass over all their bewildered faces before hardening his expression. "Back to work!" he ordered, marching back over to reclaim his speech from Combeferre.

Eponine and Cosette were both dying to talk with each other about their afternoon, particularly Eponine's interactions with Jourdain, but they would have to wait until later that evening. At the moment, their focus was on making it home before their father sent half of the Paris police force after them. As the girls hurried down the streets with their packages, they watched the slowly setting sun with worry. "Do you think Papa will be angry?" Cosette asked nervously.

"Don't be silly, Cosette, it's not yet suppertime. At least, not for another few minutes, I think," Eponine said, though she wished she felt as confident as she sounded. They hadn't intended to let the hours slip away from them at Musain, and Valjean would no doubt be sick with worry at this point. Though he had told them to be home no later than supper, he knew as well as his daughters did that collecting the groceries should not have taken nearly the amount of time the girls had been gone.

"'Ponine, you know that Papa didn't mean to come in at suppertime when he said to be home before supper," Cosette fretted. "What if Papa forbids us from going to fetch the groceries again? Or worse, what if he..."

"Cosette, if you are going to be so full of nervous chatter, let me speak to Papa and keep quiet," Eponine ordered as they finally turned onto Rue Plumet. "I will explain why we are so late…not the real reason," she added with exasperation as Cosette looked at her in sheer panic. "Leave Papa to me and agree with everything I say."

Cosette was not the only one panicking; as the girls approached their little house, they were startled when Valjean threw open the front door before they barely made it inside the gate. He had obviously been standing anxiously by the window with his crutch waiting for them. Eponine tossed her hair back and attempted to look natural.

"Bonjour Papa!" she called gaily as they walked up the stone path leading to the front door. "Did you have a nice afternoon?"

Valjean breathed a deep sigh of relief as he realized that both girls were apparently unscathed. "You are safe," he said gratefully, stepping aside to allow them into the house. Once they had set their packages on the kitchen table, however, he fixed both of his children with a hard gaze.

"Where have you been?" he asked sternly. "It is just now suppertime, and I gave you instructions to be home before now. It should not have taken you nearly so long to fetch the groceries and medicine. Did you disobey me and go somewhere other than the shops?" he asked directly, managing to fold his arms across his chest while still leaning on his crutch.

"Papa, you will never believe what happened," Eponine said, smoothly avoiding his question regarding their disobedience. "The baker awoke this morning to discover his stove was broken, and he had to have it repaired before he could bake the bread. He was just fixing it by the time we arrived into town, so the bread was not ready until barely an hour ago. We thought about going to another shop for our bread, but we thought you wanted us to stay by the shops we were familiar with. So we were forced to wait. I suppose we should have come home without the bread, but bread is so important for you to regain your strength," Eponine finished, looking at Valjean sweetly with her large brown eyes.

Valjean regarded her for a moment. Though it was quite unusual for the baker to take so long to repair anything in his shop, Eponine's story did have a ring of truth to it. The bakery they frequented was the only one on its street, and Valjean would not have been pleased if his daughters had ventured off into unfamiliar territory. And Eponine was right; bread was important for him to regain his strength, and he had gone without it for the past few days as they had allowed their food supply to dwindle.

"I see," he said finally. "Well, if such a thing happens again, come home rather than wait for the bread. I would rather you go into town the next day instead of linger so late."

"Yes Papa," Eponine promised, trying to hide her relief that Valjean had accepted her story so easily. "We're truly sorry if we worried you in any way. You look a bit pale…perhaps you should go back and rest on the couch while Cosette and I change? We will prepare supper for you within the hour."

Valjean was sure he did look pale; he had been a nervous wreck during the first two hours the girls were gone, and by the latter half of the day he had worked himself into a downright state of panic. But they were home now, safe and sound, so he could relax again. Until the next time they needed groceries, of course.

"That sounds like a fine idea," Valjean agreed, limping forward and giving each daughter a kiss on the cheek. "It is good to have you home, mes anges," he said sincerely, before hobbling off into the sitting room.

Cosette and Eponine did not say a word to each other until they were secure behind the closed door of their room, whereupon Eponine flung herself onto the settee by door.

"I cannot believe we got away with that," Eponine said in amazement.

"I cannot believe you lied to Papa so easily!" Cosette cried as she collapsed on the bed, though her rebuke was mixed with a touch of admiration. "I know you've been helping me to deceive him about Marius, but to blatantly lie…I never thought you were capable of such a thing."

"Well, I didn't exactly enjoy it," Eponine snapped, feeling incredibly guilty. "I never thought I would have to lie to Papa. But can you imagine what he would have done if I hadn't lied and told him we were at Musain? We'd be wishing for him to throw us in a convent by the time he was done with us."

"We absolutely cannot be gone for so long next time," Cosette said with a sigh. "Papa will suspect something, and at the very least he will stop us from going into town. But that will barely give us any time with Marius and Jourdain."

"You're right," Eponine said, leaning her head against the wall and closing her eyes. After a moment, her eyes popped open and she sat up.

"I've got it," she said, jumping up to join her sister on the bed. "Look, you and Marius were hardly productive at all today, but I got plenty of work done. What if, instead of going to Musain after the shopping, we went to Musain first? Then Marius could escort you to purchase the groceries, and I could get right to my sewing. You would have time with Marius all to yourself, and I would be able to do twice as much work for Les Amis."

"And spend more time with Jourdain!" Cosette said excitedly, hardly noticing Eponine turn pink at her comment. "Oh 'Ponine, you come up with the best ideas!" she cried, flinging her arms around her sister's neck.

Eponine laughed and returned the hug. "Tell me that after we succeed with it," she said, linking elbows with her sister and guiding her from the bed. "Come, let's go fetch supper for Papa. The sooner he goes to sleep, the sooner we can talk about today. I am…eager to talk about my encounters with Jourdain." Cosette smiled conspiratorially and together, the two sisters left the bedroom.

**I'm really kind of glad that chapter is over and done with. I thought I was crap at writing romance, but I think my real weakness is large groups of characters, so I hope you guys at least somewhat liked it. Since I'm expecting a lot of questions about it, I know Grantaire was possibly a little different, but I've always viewed him as a very introspective, sensitive person, despite his cynical alcoholism. I do think he loves Enjolras deeply, but I think at the core of that love is wanting Enjolras to be happy, not necessarily wanting Enjolras to make him happy. And I think he's so in tune with Enjolras's soul that he's one of the first to pick up on the fact that Eponine could make Enjolras happy. So, that's where that's headed. Coming up next: Christmas! Valjean will be lavishing his daughters with gifts as always, but will anyone else pay a visit on Christmas Eve? Please keep leaving me such great reviews; I know this chapter came late, but it might have been even later had I not known how many loyal readers I have out there! By the way, it is the longest chapter to date at almost 5,000 words!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Hey guys! I am so very sorry this chapter took so long to post, but it totally was not my fault. Since the last update I have had the following ailments: a sinus infection that lasted 4 weeks, an ear infection that made me deaf in one ear for 2 weeks, pink eye, a fainting spell, and a sprained ankle. So half the time I've been too doped up to write, and the other half I've been sleeping and/or working. Or wasting time watching tv or going on twitter, but hey, I'm human and I have a life. But I'm finally on the mend and motivated and so excited for you guys to read this next chapter!**

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed last time, especially my guest reviewers! I feel bad that I never reply to you guys, so here are my replies: Katherine, saying you find it weird now that Eponine and Cosette aren't sisters in Les Mis is literally one of the best compliments I could have dreamed of! Oya, you are so right…when Valjean finds out about what his girls have been doing, he is going to hit the roof. Sabrina, I am happy that you exist because your reviews are always so awesome and funny. It'smeeee if I translated your message right, thank you-I've never been called an acclaimed author before! And to all of my readers, two important messages. One, not everyone is going to survive this story, but for the 78th time, Eponine WILL live! I promise. And number two, I also promise that I'm not giving up on this story. You can ask Fanpire101 (who by the way is about to update her amazing story Ma Fleur Rebelle), every two days I'm on twitter going "dude, I really want to write a new chapter for Tresors!" It's just going slower as the plot becomes more continuous and complex, but even if I'm gone for a few weeks, don't assume I've given up. I'm not going anywhere! And with that, on with the story! **

_December 23, 1831_

"Are you all ready for bed, mes filles?" Valjean asked, poking his head around the bedroom door.

"Yes Papa," Cosette said, already in bed and under the covers. Eponine was sitting on her side of the bed, tying her brown hair into a long braid, and she smiled as her Papa entered the room.

"Very good," Valjean said, coming over and tucking the blankets over Eponine as she lay down. He glanced over at Cosette and his brow furrowed with worry. His daughter's normally pale skin was a bright shade of pink, and her large blue eyes seemed very shiny, as though she was on the verge of tearing up.

"Cosette, ma ange, are you feeling ill?" he asked concernedly, quickly crossing to the other side of the bed and placing a strong hand on his daughter's forehead. "Your face is quite flushed."

"Oh, I'm alright, Papa," Cosette said rather quickly. "I just…stood too close to the fire as I was dressing for bed, I suppose. I'll cool down momentarily."

"Very well," Valjean said gently, stroking her cheek before giving her a soft kiss on her forehead. "You will be sure to fetch me if you should feel badly, yes? I would hate for you to be ill over Christmas."

"Of course, Papa," Cosette said to him as he crossed back to give Eponine her goodnight kiss. "Bonne nuit," she added, giving him a sweet smile.

"Bonne nuit, Papa," Eponine echoed, snuggling down under the covers as her father headed for the door.

"Bonne nuit, mes petits," Valjean said warmly, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Barely a second after Valjean had left the room, Eponine sat up and turned to her sister with an excited gleam in her eyes. "Alright, I've waited long enough," she whispered, practically bouncing on the bed in anticipation. "Show me your Christmas gift from Marius before I burst from curiousity."

Cosette needed no more urging than that. The lithe blonde girl sprang from the bed and hurried over to her jewelry box.

"Thank heavens Papa didn't question me anymore," she said, glancing back at Eponine. "I was trying to hide my excitement, but I guess I wasn't doing a very good job." Lifting the lid of the box, she removed a delicate gold bracelet set with gleaming pearls, which had been sitting there since late afternoon when Marius had brought it to Cosette in the garden. Cradling the piece of jewelry in her hands as tenderly as she would hold a newborn, Cosette came back to the bed and scooted close to her sister, allowing her to examine Marius's fine gift.

"Oh Cosette," Eponine breathed, gently stroking her finger along the silky pearls. "It's truly one of the loveliest things I've ever seen. But how on earth did Marius pay for such a bracelet? I'm not sure even Papa could have afforded it."

Cosette rolled her eyes at her sister; they both knew perfectly well that Papa would spare no expense when it came to them. No matter what they asked for, Papa was always magically able to produce money to buy it, though he had not worked since their time in the convent. Neither of the Fauchelevant girls were greedy by any means, but when they truly desired something, their Papa would not bat an eyelash before acquiring it for them. Still, Eponine was right in her estimation of the cost of the bracelet.

"I was so surprised when I opened it that I asked Marius the same question," Cosette admitted. "I know he makes a little bit of money working at the university library, but his salary would scarcely have covered the cost of one of the pearls. But it turns out that, although he refuses help from his grandfather, he does have a lump sum of money stored away that his grandfather gave him well before they parted ways. He has never spent any of it, but he has always kept it around in case he or one of his friends was in a truly bad situation. I scolded him for spending it on me, but he said I was worth every sous," she finished, blushing as she examined her bracelet with shining eyes.

"You are, ma sœur douce," Eponine said reassuringly, putting her arm around Cosette's shoulders and hugging her close. "You deserve everything Marius can give you and more. I'm glad to know that he would move life and limb to provide for you when you do get married."

"'Ponine!" Cosette hissed, turning her head nervously toward the door as though expecting Valjean to burst in at any moment. "Keep your voice down! You don't want Papa to hear us talking of marriage, do you? Anyway, Marius knows that it will be quite some time before we can even begin to think about asking Papa's permission to marry. Although…"

"Although what?" Eponine whispered, touching her forehead to her sister's and raising her eyebrows at her.

Cosette lowered her eyes and traced her finger over her beautiful bracelet. "Tonight, Marius…he kissed me," she said softly.

"He _kissed _you?!" Eponine squeaked, her voice rising in spite of herself. "Marius kissed you?!"

"Yes," Cosette said, unable to stop a shy grin from spreading across her face as her sister reacted to her news. "It lasted barely two seconds, but…oh 'Ponine, it was just like it happens in books. His lips touched mine and I was swept away to a magical place. I know it's hardly proper, but…"

"Oh, who cares about proper," Eponine scoffed, taking her sister's hand in her own. "Cosette, he does love you," she said passionately. "This proves it beyond a doubt. I am so happy for you, truly I am."

"Are you really?" Cosette asked hopefully, her large blue eyes shining as she looked at her sister.

"Of course I am, you silly goose!" Eponine exclaimed. "Why on earth wouldn't I be?"

"It's just…well…I thought you would be unhappy because Jourdain did not give you a Christmas gift," Cosette responded timidly.

"Oh," said Eponine, her smile faltering a bit before she collected herself. "Oh Cosette, do not worry about me," she said, shrugging her shoulders and giving her sister a carefree smile. "I'm fairly certain Jourdain does not have a large stash of money tucked away from his grandfather to purchase any fine jewelry. More importantly, I'm not sure he even realizes that Christmas is upon us. He's so enamored with his work I'm not sure he even knows what year it is!"

But more than an hour after the lamp had been dimmed and Cosette was sound asleep, Eponine lay awake, sadly pondering the very thing she had claimed was not affecting her. True, she had not been expecting anything half so costly as Cosette's bracelet as a gift from Jourdain, but that did not mean she was not disappointed by his failure to give her a present. Her quip about him not realizing it was Christmas had made her sister laugh, but both knew that it was not true. Just two days ago, the Fauchelevant girls had arrived to their regular visit at Café Musain with a large basket laden down with Christmas cookies and freshly baked fruit cake for the boys of l'ABC. All of them, including Jourdain, had heartily welcomed the gift and wished them both a collective Joyeux Noël, and Jourdain had thanked her personally while she helped Courfeyrac address envelopes.

Eponine sighed and rolled over towards the window, staring wistfully at the bright stars in the deep black sky. She had spent countless nights over the past few months contemplating their beauty as she thought about Jourdain. Her thoughts of him grew more frequent as she spent more time with him. Eponine and Cosette had managed to make it to Musain at least twice, sometimes three times a week since September. Cosette and Marius would go off on their own, usually completing the shopping for the Fauchelevant household, while Eponine stayed behind and assisted Les Amis with their work. She often sewed cockades and sashes as she had during her first visits, but her tasks had expanded. Now she addressed letters, sorted through papers and, when the little boy would permit it, taught Gavroche his letters.

But the best moments spent at Musain were on the days when all of the other boys were attending classes or handing out pamphlets on the streets, and she and Jourdain were the only ones in Musain. During those precious hours, Eponine would listen to Jourdain read aloud from his latest speech or pamphlet and give him her advice, which surprisingly, he always welcomed. The two had engaged in many conversations about the state of the country over the past months. During those conversations, each had revealed many things about their pasts to each other: Eponine of her hard life with the Thenardiers, Enjolras of his impoverished upbringing. Slowly, the two had grown to know each other, and Eponine, for her part, had grown to care deeply for Enjolras. Not that she hadn't cared for him before, but her feelings were far deeper and complex than they had been when he was just a memory from her past. The problem was, Enjolras had given her no indication that he reciprocated her feelings towards him. She kept telling herself that he must care, for she was one of the few people he would talk to about anything other than Patria, but she longed with all her heart for him to show her that he cared in some more personal way. Squeezing her eyes shut, Eponine buried her head in her pillow and tried to fall asleep, hoping she could dream of happy things.

While Eponine was trying to fall asleep, things across the city at Café Musain were decidedly more lively. Les Amis had begun their meeting right after supper, but Marius had stumbled in late with an even dopier grin on his face than usual. Naturally, all of the students pressured him into telling them of his meeting with Cosette, the bracelet, and their first kiss.

Enjolras rolled his eyes as he listened to his friends make cat calls and good-natured jibes at Marius. Honestly, were they ever going to get tired of this game? He was surprised it had taken this long for Marius to work up the courage to kiss Cosette. The boy had thought of absolutely nothing else for months. If he put that kind of attention towards the cause, he probably could have overthrown the King single-handedly.

"What about you, Enjolras?" Bahorel called out suddenly, his voice carrying over all the teasing. "What gift did you give to our lovely Eponine?"

"I beg your pardon?" Enjolras asked, his brow crinkling in confusion as he glanced up from his work.

"What did you give Eponine for Christmas?" Bahorel pressed. "Come on, Enjolras, don't keep secrets from us. Marius has shared his, now out with it!"

"There is nothing to come out with, Bahorel," Enjolras said impatiently, looking back down and continuing to shuffle through his papers. "I have not purchased Christmas gifts for anyone for many years now. I have neither the time nor the money."

The room became silent, and Enjolras felt several pairs of eyes boring into him. Sighing wearily, he looked up from his papers with raised eyebrows.

"Enjolras," Courfeyrac said, finally breaking the silence. "Are you saying you did not give Eponine anything for Christmas?"

"That is exactly what I am saying, Courfeyrac," Enjolras said testily. "Is there a problem?"

"Well…I suppose…" Courfeyrac stumbled, a little taken aback by his leader's irritable tone.

"It's just that, we assumed you would have gotten her a little something," Jehan broke in. "Christmas is a very romantic time of year, after all, and…"

"And what do you mean by that?" Enjolras asked sharply, his hackles raising slightly as he scanned the room with dark eyes.

"Enjolras, there is no need to become defensive," Combeferre said hurriedly, before any of his friends dug themselves into a deeper hole. "It's quite alright that you did not get Eponine a gift. We've just all seen how you look at her, and we thought that you would get her something for Christmas, given your feelings."

Enjolras set down his pen and placed his palms on the table, slowly pushing himself up from his chair as he fixed his comrades with a fiery look.

"Let me make something perfectly clear, my friends," he said tightly. "I am exceedingly pleased that both of the Fauchelevant sisters have been spending their time with l'ABC. They have been invaluable to our cause over the past two months, particularly Eponine, and I am very grateful to her. But my first and only concern in my life is the state of Patria and her people. I have no time for frivolities, and frankly, I am ashamed of all of you for believing otherwise. Now, if you are quite finished discussing paltry things like Christmas gifts, get back to work!" With that, he grabbed his papers and stormed over to a solitary table in the corner; ironically, the very table where Eponine did most of her sewing.

The rest of Les Amis glanced at each other uncomfortably before slowly and quietly resuming their work. Though none of them voiced it, they knew that their esteemed leader was not being entirely truthful. Enjolras had ranted against "frivolities" in the past; lecturing his friends for taking witty girls to their beds and enjoying nights at the opera when they could have been working, but he had never become quite so agitated before. As Jehan's beloved Shakespeare would say, the boys believed that Enjolras "doth protest too much." Despite his failure to bequeath Eponine with a Christmas gift, they all could not deny what they had seen over the past few months. Slowly but surely, Enjolras was starting to care for something other than Patria.

Enjolras could feel his friends' eyes darting toward him every few seconds, and he grimaced as he marked up his latest speech. He knew they would be talking about his tirade at least for the next few days, and he was starting to regret his words. He had not been truthful when he said he did not care for Eponine, it was just…

Enjolras's inner monologue was interrupted when Grantaire sat himself down in the chair across the table.

"Not now, Grantaire," Enjolras sighed, deliberately avoiding looking up from his speech.

"You don't find Christmas frivolous," Grantaire said bluntly, gazing at Enjolras over the top of his bottle, which he had placed on the table. "Nor do you find Eponine frivolous. We all know how you feel about her."

Enjolras sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Grantaire, I don't have time for your drunken ramblings," he said tiredly.

"No, it's something else," Grantaire continued. "You're not an idiot; you know you should give the girl a gift. If anything to show appreciation for all the help she has provided over these past months. You said you had neither the time nor the money, but it would take you mere seconds to procure a gift. So it must be the money."

In spite of himself, Enjolras flushed slightly as his inebriated friend hit the nail on the head. "Grantaire, I…would you please go away?" he said, flushing even more deeply as he realized that his voice was starting to sound a little desperate.

But Grantaire was nothing if not single minded (though to be fair, he was usually single minded about liquor), and he continued to regard Enjolras with a silent, steady stare. His dark eyes were so intense that Enjolras finally threw down his pen in frustration. Looking over his shoulder to make sure none of the other Les Amis were listening, he rubbed an anxious hand through his curls and spoke.

"I have not the vaguest idea of what to give Eponine for Christmas," he admitted, his voice barely audible to avoid eavesdroppers. "I could never afford any sort of jewelry or something that a girl would like. I know that I should give her something, but I'd rather give her nothing than insult her."

"Only a vain or selfish girl would judge a man for the quality of the gift he brings her," Grantaire said quietly. "Eponine is neither of those things. She desires nothing more than your heart." With those profound words uttered, Grantaire took a deep swig of wine and pushed himself away from the table.

Enjolras stared after him, wondering briefly why a man who was clearly so philosophical and intelligent spent most of his waking hours in a drunken stupor. His perceptions had been spot on, and, the more Enjolras thought about it, so had his advice. It had been silly of him to think that he had to buy Eponine some fancy trinket to show his feelings for her. Fortunately, there was still time to make amends. Eponine had mentioned that she and her family would go to mass on Christmas Eve, perhaps he could leave her a gift at her home while they were gone. But what could he procure at such late notice? He glanced down at the table, and noticed with surprise that he had been absent mindedly folding the edges of once of his papers. A small smile played on his lips; he had an idea.

_December 24, 1831_

The Faucelevant family's Christmas Eve passed in much the same manner as it had over the past seven years. After coming home from evening mass, Valjean and his daughters enjoyed a hearty Christmas feast together, ending per usual with a magnificent Bûche de Noël. Though they were nearly sixteen years old, Cosette and Eponine still set up their crèche after supper with as much care and joy as they had when they were little, and diligently placed their shoes by the fire along with a glass of wine for Père Noël. They had long since realized that it was their Papa who filled their shoes on Christmas Eve, and Valjean knew as well that he had been found out. Still, no one said anything to each other, for Valjean wanted to hold onto his little girls as long as possible, and Eponine and Cosette were in no hurry to give up a magical tradition that they had been robbed of for the first seven years of their lives. After giving their Papa a goodnight kiss, the two girls headed off to bed.

Cosette brushed her hair and Eponine sat in bed reading a book when the latter noticed a white swirl hovering outside the window. "Oh Cosette, look!" Eponine cried. "It's started to snow!"

Jumping up from the bed, Eponine made her way over to the window and unlatched it, sticking her hand out to feel the cold flakes against her skin. As she pushed the heavy window pane out of the way, she saw something fall to the ground out of the corner of her eye. She reached down to pick up the strange object, and when she realized what it was, she felt her heart skip a beat. Drawing her hand back into the room, Eponine stared at the item for a full half of a minute before opening the slip of paper that had been folded around it. She was in no hurry to read it; she knew full well who had left the precious gift on her windowsill.

"'Ponine, what's that you've got there?" Cosette asked curiously, setting her brush down on the vanity and coming up to the window. Looking over her sister's shoulder, she read the note that Eponine held in her hand and her eyes grew wide with happiness.

"'Ponine, Joyeux Noël. Jourdain," Cosette breathed, grasping Eponine's arm in excitement. "Oh 'Ponine, I knew it! I knew he wouldn't forget you on Christmas! What did he leave with the note?"

Eponine still did not speak, not trusting herself not to cry if she did. She wordlessly turned to her sister and showed her what was clutched in her hand: a beautiful silk blue ribbon, tied to the stem of a single, perfect rose.

**Ok, I have been so freaking excited to write that last scene for months! Seriously, it's been planned since the beginning of the story and I'm pretty sure it's the best ending I've written thus far. I know the chapter as a whole wasn't my best, but I'm hoping that the rose made everything worth it! And yes, I know Grantaire is a little OOC again, but it's my story and I do what I want. Coming up next: some of the boys are going to get in some trouble, and the girls will have to help them out. And maybe, just maybe, their assistance will be the catalyst for Enjolras to finally accept and really admit his feelings for Eponine ;) And after the next chapter, the Barricade Sequence should be ready to begin! I know it's been 5 weeks guys, but please review and let me know you're still out there! I'm not promising when the next chapter will be up, but I'll try to make it less than a month this time. Love you all! **


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